


Violence Does Not Consume You (On Hiatus)

by motherofdracaenas



Category: Taxi Driver (1976)
Genre: Alternate Character Interpretation, F/M, Fluff and Angst, On Hiatus, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, mention of sexual harassment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23218156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/motherofdracaenas/pseuds/motherofdracaenas
Summary: This is just me indulging my fantasy of a less problematic Travis lol. I love the original movie, but this work deviates from its main themes in some ways. I just wanted to explore writing Travis as a bit more vulnerable and wanting of love, while also battling some of those familiar dark tendencies.💙
Relationships: Original Female Character of Color/Travis Bickle
Comments: 22
Kudos: 35





	1. 315 East Ave.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He watched her as she watched him. Both sizing each other up trying to determine if they could trust each other. Her mascara was smeared a bit under her eyes and her lip quivered gently, but she tried to maintain a straight face. She needed him to know that she wasn’t running a game.

Her breathing was frantic as the cold night air engulfed her. But compared to what she’d just experienced, it almost felt like a warm embrace. The restaurant door clanged as she hurried to the edge of the sidewalk to hail down a taxi. 

“Come on come” she whispered tensely as she desperately flailed her arms. One zoomed by, and then another. “Fuck…” She hoisted her purse further up her shoulder.

The restaurant door opened violently behind her and she cursed, stepping off the sidewalk as she noticed another taxi heading her way. Waving her arms frantically, she silently pleaded. The taxi slowed as it neared and edged toward the curb, but she hopped in front of it to make sure it came to a complete stop. The driver blared his horn aggressively as the vehicle screeched to a halt, barely inches from sending her over the hood. Through the window, she could see him throw up his hands and curse a bit, but she grinned brightly with tears almost leaping out of her eyes. She quickly headed around the side to get in the backseat, but a hand gripped her arm and pulled her back. 

“Let me go!” 

“You bitch.” The words were slurred but laced in rage. She quickly opened the door and hopped in. 

“Please drive” she gasped gripping the torn leather of the seat.

In the rearview she caught a pair of skeptical brown eyes pass over her. There was a bang on the door beside her, and she jumped. The pair of eyes flicked to the back window, back to her, and then the driver hit the gas, speeding off into the frenzy of New York City nightlife. The ride was silent for some time as she focused on breathing. She could hear her heartbeat echoing through her skull. She finally allowed herself to release her grip on the seat and rested back.

“Alright, where am I taking you?” the pair of eyes met hers again in the rearview. They were still fogged with skepticism but curiosity now peaked through. She brought her hand up to touch her damp forehead and sighed a little. 

“315 East Ave.” She reached into her purse for a tissue to dab away perspiration.

“Hey uh…what happened back there?” The eyes remained inquisitive but had softened.

She met their gaze with an undeniably readable expression and they quickly darted away back to the road. She sighed again, glad he had gotten the hint. As relaxation started to set in, there came the sudden sound of tires swerving behind them. She turned quickly to peek through the back window, her eyes widening and her breathing hitched. 

“Can you drive faster?” she blurted, leaning forward through the gap between the front two seats. The driver glanced over at her briefly and then up into the mirror to check the road behind him, noticing a flashy car riding his tail.

“That the guy from back there?” His eyes focused on hers in the mirror. She nodded quickly. He sped up a little and changed lanes hoping to shake the car, but it glided along with him bullying its way in front of the car next to it. He sighed. “Look, lady…I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but if you took his money without putting out I-” he started.

“I’m not a fucking hooker” She cut him off with a venomous tone and pulled back. She slumped down in the seat trying to keep her head out of view of the window and closed her eyes tightly. He watched her curiously through the mirror. Her lips moved and parted. She was praying. He shook his head and looked forward once again accelerating trying to lose the guy. He took a couple of abrupt turns, but the car stayed on his back. As he neared East Ave. he grew anxious. 

“Lady he’s not budging." He turned to face her.

She had opened her eyes, and they were glossed over with fear. For the first time, he was looking directly at her. He swallowed a bit as he took her in. She was stunning. He diverted his eyes and looked back to the road swiftly, feeling his nerves rise a bit more. He watched in the mirror as she peered out the window, and then turned quickly onto East Ave. in one final attempt to lose the guy. She went flying across the seat. Whatever had happened had made her too flustered to remember buckling up.

“Shit…sorry” he mumbled glancing up in the rearview mirror again. She sat up quickly and flashed him a small scowl, but he noticed a small chuckle escape her lips. He smiled softly to himself but it quickly faded when he saw the headlights reappear behind them. She sensed them too, glancing back. She cursed and turned back to face him.

“Please just park right here” she hissed. He hesitated for a moment but quickly pulled over between two cars parked parallel. The meter continued to tick. She slouched further down, her chest rising and falling rapidly. He watched her intently. 

“What that guy do to you?” he asked turning off his headlights. She shook her head abruptly. “Look I can call the police…if he tried to hurt you, you need to let someone know.” He had turned to face her fully again.

She sat up a bit and leaned to glance out the window across the street. The car that had been trailing them had also pulled over across the street a couple of spaces behind them. Her eyes stayed locked on it, waiting for the car door to swing open. She buried her head in her hands. The taxi driver frowned a bit but took the time to really study her. She was dressed in a nice ruffled navy blue blouse that was decorated with small orange flowers. It was tucked into silk bell-bottomed pants that were the same hue as the flowers. The pants accentuated her thin waist and curvy hips. Her hair was blown out into a nice fluffy fro. Real Donna Summers like. Biting his lip, he turned back in his seat. He leaned forward to observe the other car too. There were no sudden movements, and he settled back into his seat. They sat there for a moment in silence. 

“Can you just keep driving?” Her voice came soft and shaky. He turned to look at her. 

“I thought this was your street?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“It is, but I don’t want him to know that. He’s waiting for me to get out, so he can see where I live” she whispered sharply. “If we just pull off he’ll think we were trying to fake him and forget all about this area.” She sounded like she was still trying to convince herself. 

“And what if he pulls off with us and keeps following? You want me to just keep going in circles around the city?” He turned further in his seat to give her the full view of his scrutinizing expression.

“I’ll pay you whatever. Keep the meter on. I promise I’ll pay you for the full ride. He’ll give up eventually, and then you can bring me back here. Please” she begged sitting up and leaning forward to grip the back of his seat. He watched her as she watched him. Both sizing each other up trying to determine if they could trust each other. Her mascara was smeared a bit under her eyes and her lip quivered gently, but she tried to maintain a straight face. She needed him to know that she wasn’t running a game.

He turned and sat back in his seat checking his side mirror again to observe the other car. He could see the outline of the driver's shape shift slightly in the seat. Just waiting like a predator. He hated predators. Slowly, he shifted the gear back into drive and pulled out of the spot, flicking his lights back on. On cue, the other car pulled out as well and assumed its position on his bumper. She squirmed uncomfortably but shot him a look of thanks through the rearview mirror. He nodded and pulled forward. He reached over and flicked off the meter without her noticing and set off back into the streets.

They drove and drove. The car never let up. He’d think he’d lost him and then the car would reappear like a phantom. He checked his rearview every so often to monitor the woman in the back. She had laid out across the seat, but her eyes remained open. He glanced up and saw a sign signaling that the Lincoln Tunnel was approaching.

"I think we might be able to shake him” he said softly. She sat up on her elbow peering up at him. “This fucker is not going to want to go all the way to New Jersey and have to pay that toll.” He flashed her a grin in the mirror. She nodded. “And if he does…well, we’ll still have a chance to lose him. If the toll is crowded, which I’m hoping it is, he’ll get stuck behind either us or someone else. Hopefully, that slows him down a bit. Plus he’s going to have to pay which just adds more time” he said.

In the backseat, she sat up and circled her arms around herself. “You cold?” his eyes met hers again in the mirror. She shook her head “no” and blushed a bit as she saw him turn the heat up a little anyways.

She’d been studying him for some time during the drive. He was extremely handsome, with a nice head of brown hair and a gorgeous pair of almond brown eyes that met hers every so often in the mirror. She’d purposely laid out with her head on the seat diagonal to him so she could get a better view of his side profile. She tried her best to keep her cheek from actually touching the seat, imagining all the filth that had probably collected in the back. But tonight had been a long night, and she didn’t really care.

She watched him as slyly as possible. His long eyelashes fluttered occasionally as he'd yawn, fighting sleep. His strong jawline was accentuated whenever he’d tense up glancing back in the mirror to see the car still on their tail. Yeah, he’d come off as a bit gruff and awkward, but he was going out of his way to keep her safe, and he didn’t owe her anything. She closed her eyes briefly to send up a thank you to God for letting the other taxis pass by earlier. She’d lucked out and gotten the best option. Other drivers would have put her out, flat on her ass blocks ago, and who knows what would’ve happened then.

She felt the car slow a bit and glanced forward. The Lincoln Tunnel toll was approaching and behind it stood the shabby tunnels leading into New Jersey. Man, had they been driving. They made eye contact in the mirror briefly, and she turned to watch the other car. It had pulled over to the side of the road and come to a complete stop. Her chest tightened. The taxi continued easing up to the toll, but the driver kept watching as well. Suddenly the other car pulled off the curb and made a harsh u-turn, speeding back down the road in the opposite direction. She clasped her hands together and laughed loudly. He joined in and stuck his fist back for her to bump. Her knuckles met his, and they both smiled.

"I guess we can turn around now too."

He shook his head. “I think we should still cross over just for a moment to make sure we lose him for real. He might be lurking for a while.” He met her eyes. She nodded and reached into her wallet to get out some cash.

“Here. This is for the toll.” She laid it on the seat beside him.

“No. Don’t worry about it.”

“No please -” She started but he’d already pulled out some cash from his pocket and was paying the person at the window before she could say anymore.

She huffed a little as he sped up into the tunnel. He chuckled and reached down for her money handing it back to her. She took it hesitantly and then shrugged. She’d be giving it right back to him anyways once they came back through the toll. They sped through the tunnel and went up some ways before he did a u-turn to head back into New York. As they emerged from the tunnel and approached the toll again, he held up his hand before she could get too far back into her purse for the cash.

“I got it.” He assured her. She frowned, but let her hand drop. He paid the fee again and they sped back into New York in silence. “315 East Ave right?” he asked softly after some time.

“Yeah” she yawned and leaned back. “Thank you” she followed up softly. He waved it off with his right hand casually but smiled to himself.

The rest of the ride was silent as she eventually dozed off. He pulled back into the same spot he’d parked in earlier once he got back to East Ave. Looking around briefly, he scanned for the car in case the lunatic had thought to come back. He didn’t see the car and let himself relax a bit. He watched her rest peacefully in the mirror for a moment and then cleared this throat.

She opened her eyes slowly and stretched. She blinked a couple of times, panic rising in her chest. Had she really let herself fall asleep in a strangers car after almost getting attacked by one earlier? Then she let herself breathe. She recognized the street. She still had on all her clothes. She wasn’t tied up. Everything was fine.

The taxi driver was smiling at her softly with one corner of his mouth raised. She blushed. He had a fickleness about him that made him come off as innocently aloof, but she could detect a shift of darkness that sat deep in his eyes. There was something there that was not to be fucked with. It excited her for some reason. She stretched and smiled back before reaching for her purse. “How much do I owe you?” she yawned taking out her wallet. He shook his head gently.

“Don’t worry about it” his smile now pulled at both sides of his mouth.

“No way. You saved my life tonight” she protested pulling out several bills. “I know I have to owe you at least $40” she shook her head defiantly.

“I wouldn’t know. I turned off the meter a while back” he grinned slyly and flicked his eyes to the unmoving numbers on the small machine. Her mouth gaped and her eyes widened.

“Why would you do that?” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. He shrugged sheepishly. “What? You think I’m going to pay you some other way? You still think I’m a hooker don’t you?” she snapped. She was growing defensive.

His eyes darkened and she flinched back a little into the seat. He turned to face her completely.

“Thought it would be fucked up to charge you. You’re night’s been tough enough” His gaze bore into her. Her cheeks flushed slightly and she sighed.

“I’m sorry…I just…you’re right…tonight is not my night” she wrapped her arms around herself. “You’re so kind honestly. You’ve been driving with me for like 2 hours. I…please…let me pay something” she begged. His eyes softened but he shook his head defiantly. She looked down frustrated. Still clutching her wallet, she started pulling out bills anyway.

“What happened with that guy?” his voice was gentle. She stopped grabbing bills and looked up at him. His brown eyes searched hers desperately. She bit her lip and looked out the window for a moment.

“He groped me” she whispered. “I’d gone out tonight just to eat alone, and he came up to me at the bar. It was fine at first. I wasn’t really looking for the attention, but he seemed kind enough. And then…he just got pushy. He kept touching me even when I’d asked him to stop and started demanding I come home with him. Everyone acted like they didn’t notice me squirming away from him. He’d bought me a drink, but I hadn’t touched it. He’d had a couple himself, so I think he was just acting out of character. ” she nervously fluffed her hair in the reflection of the window.

“Sounds like he acted in character to me” he said. “Alcohol doesn’t make you violate someone. You do that because you already had the intention to. The alcohol might just give you the courage to go through with it” he shifted in his seat and faced the passenger's side. “Plus, he had to have sobered up a bit by the time he was trailing us like a maniac. He was fully aware of what he was doing. And fuck those other people in the restaurant that didn’t do nothin' ” he mumbled.

She stared at him and opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t. He was right. “I’m sorry that had to happen to you. Truly. I think you should still go to the police though just in case he tries to come around again” he turned back to face her slightly. She nodded softly and smiled at him.

“Please take this” she extended her hand full of $20s amounting to well over $40.

“Nope” he chuckled waving her hand away.

“At least let me pay a tip” she insisted. He turned away and wouldn’t look at her.“How are you going to explain the charge to your boss? I probably owed you like $7 before you turned off the meter” she scolded.

“I’ll pay it. Don’t worry about it” he said over his shoulder.

“Won't your boss expect you to have picked up more people? It’s a Saturday for God’s sake. Busy day for taxis. What are you going to say about just picking up a $7 ride after 10 PM?” she demanded.

He laughed a little. She was right. His boss wouldn’t buy the shit, but he’d come up with something. “Don’t know” he shrugged.

“You don’t know?”

“You ask a lot of questions” he turned to look at her with a slight gleam in his eyes.

“Take the fucking money. It’s the least I can do. After what you did tonight, I honestly owe you dinner and a movie” she chuckled softly once again jutting the money towards him.

The idea of seeing her again in a more formal setting sounded nice. He raised an eyebrow slightly but bashfully shook his head once again. She sighed heavily and threw the money on the passenger seat anyways and quickly hopped out.

"Hey” he laughed grabbing the cash and hopping out on his side. She tried to rush down the sidewalk so he couldn’t catch her, but he did. “I’ll leave these right here” he laughed approaching her and stooped down like he was going to lay the bills on the ground. “Here” he grabbed her wrist gently.

Her body tensed at the contact at first, but she could see in his eyes that he didn’t have the same demons as the man before. She blushed a little noticing for the first time the mole speck that sat on his left cheek. It was like the cherry on top of all his other glorious features. Relaxing a bit, she giggled and balled her hand into a fist as he tried to force the money into her palm.

He laughed as he tried to pry her fingers apart. They stood on the sidewalk giggling and wiggling away from each other like kids for a moment. In their tussle, her keys had fallen out of her purse and he noticed a tag with a number attached to it. He flashed her a devilish grin suddenly, released her, and then took off down the sidewalk. She paused to pick her keys back up and headed after him, laughing all the way.

He searched the address markers intently. “315” he muttered to himself. He finally found the one he was looking for in front of a small brick building that had only two floors. He opened the door quickly and looked both ways for the mailboxes. A moment later he heard her come in the door behind him.

“Hey” she gasped still laughing.

He had noticed the boxes on the right and had already reached them. “208” he boasted. She ran up beside him and couldn’t do anything but erupt into giggles as she watched him slowly slide the bills into the bottom crack of her mailbox door. He turned to her once they’d all disappeared into the metal wall. “I hope it was 208 I saw on your keys. Because if not, you just paid for someone’s rent.” He grinned and shrugged helplessly. She rolled her eyes and took her key from her purse.

“You got me. You win” she chuckled as she dangled the tag in his face.

He laughed and leaned against the wall. There was a brief pause. She gulped a bit, realizing that she’d allowed a complete stranger to discover where she lived even though she’d spent all night keeping another stranger from doing the same.

“What’s your name?” he asked eyeing her as if he'd just had the same thought. They’d never even formally introduced themselves. She swallowed. He already had her address, would giving him her name be going too far? She looked back up into his inquisitive dark eyes and smiled softly.

“Bridgette." 

“Hi, Bridgette. I’m Travis” he extended his hand for her to shake and she took it lightly. He gave her a gentle squeeze, a soft shake, and then released his grasp. His hand fell lamely to his side. 

“Nice to meet you. I wish I could thank you a thousand times. I’ll probably never see you again” she looked down and then back up. There was no immediate reply as she observed him. He looked her over with a quick glance, but long enough for her to notice. She felt a sudden wave of warmness creep over her body. 

“Well who knows” he sighed. “Maybe you’ll stumble into my taxi again someday and you can treat me to that dinner and a movie you mentioned” he leaned closer with his hands now stuffed in the pockets of his worn tan jacket. She grinned goofily and nodded. 

“Yeah maybe” she chuckled. There was another brief pause. “Well goodnight, and thank you again. Good luck with your boss” she smiled and gave a little wave as she turned to go up the stairs. He laughed softly. 

“Goodnight” he waved and watched her for a moment before heading out of the door. He whistled softly to himself as he made his way back down the street to his taxi. Once inside, he couldn’t stop grinning. He pulled off a moment later, heading back into the chaos of the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! This is super new for me, so I was a bit nervous about posting. I've been working on this for sometime, so there are other chapters ready to be flushed out. I hope you all enjoy. Please feel free to leave feedback and comments!


	2. Old Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dejected. Uninspired and lonely. He blinked sleep from his eyes as he turned a corner. And then suddenly, there she was.

Travis had told himself he wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t try to find her again. He’d just let fate do its trick, but he couldn’t help it. He’d thought about her every day since that night. He spent countless hours on and off the clock, slowly drifting his taxi down East Ave., peering out his window. Just waiting for her to exit the apartment. She never did. He’d curse himself, feeling like he was no better than the lowlife from the other night. 

“You fucking creep. Get the fuck out of here” he’d growl glancing at himself in the rearview and speed away. What would she think of him if she knew he was stalking her? He’d tell himself he wouldn’t go back, but he’d be right back on the block the next day. 

\---

Two weeks had gone by, and he was cruising further downtown. Dejected. Uninspired and lonely. He blinked sleep from his eyes as he turned a corner. And then suddenly, there she was. Her maroon skirt caught in the breeze as she bounded out of a bank. She pulled anxiously at the sleeves of her snug black turtleneck. His eyes widened and his breathing hitched as he watched her approach the sidewalk to hail down a taxi. Up ahead, one of his fellow underpaid tour guides, was already starting to veer towards her. He sped up trying to pass the other taxi but got stuck behind it instead. He followed its path and slowed against the sidewalk. 

He put the taxi in park and hopped out immediately, almost stumbling into traffic. Horns blew and curse words bounced off the taxi’s hood, but he was unmoved. His attention and focus were locked on her. He ran across to the sidewalk and approached her as she reached to open the other car’s door. 

“Hey!” He grabbed her arm desperately but kept his grip gentle enough not to scare her too bad. He’d gotten to her just before she could duck in. She jumped, a bit startled, but a soft grin spread across her face as she took him in. He smiled back goofily. 

“Hey.” Bridgette gasped. He let go of her arm and quickly shut the taxi door. She giggled, “You stalking me?” 

His breathing wavered for a moment, and his ears started burning. He shifted slightly, leaning against the door and cleared his throat. She was obviously joking. She didn't know. He pulled it together quickly. 

“You come ride with me” he half asked, half commanded, nodding back to his taxi. He was trying to look cool about it, but his eyes pleaded with her. She started to say something but was cut off.

“Buddy! What the fuck are you doing?” The other taxi driver had hopped out and was scolding them from his side of the car. “You trying to take my business pal? It’s lunchtime. Plenty of fucking folks to pick up, so piss off” he snapped. 

Travis threw up his hands innocently. “Hey man…I’m sorry. I promise I’m not trying to undercut you. But this is an old friend of mine and I haven’t seen her in a while” he said with a light chuckle. Bridgette grinned up at him. 

“I don’t give a fuck if she’s your wife and it’s been a century since you last saw her. I got to her first” the man yelled over the traffic. “Now get in the car lady, and let's go” he huffed and started to duck back into the drivers seat. 

She glanced his way momentarily and bit her lip anxiously. Travis gave her a tender, yet firm tug under her elbow and she felt that same warmness from the other night creep back over her. 

“No, I’m fine sir. I’m going to go with him. Thanks though” she blurted and turned to follow Travis back to his taxi, skipping behind him as he jogged. They heard the taxi driver hop out and hurl several expletives at them, but they giggled the entire way back. 

He hopped in the drivers seat grinning from ear to ear. She reached to open the back door on the passengers side, but he beat her, reaching back to lock it before she could. She lightly banged on the hood. He rolled down the passenger window as she leaned forward to peer in. “What are you doing? Let me in” she giggled. 

“Ride upfront with me.” He nodded to the seat next to him with a twinkle in his eyes. She frowned. 

“Isn’t it weird to sit upfront in a cab?” she narrowed her eyes. 

“Most people don’t.” He shrugged. “But don’t worry about all that. It's not like your a customer. You're an 'old friend'." He grinned up at her. "Plus, I’m not in service.” He reached to flick off his sign. She shook her head. 

“We’re not doing this again. I’m paying you this time” she jutted her index finger through the window at him. 

He chuckled. “Come on where you headed? It’s lunchtime. You’re headed to lunch, aren’t you? Let me take you out” he encouraged, ducking his head to get a better view of her through the window, feigning casualness. He was trying hard not to let on that he’d been driving past her apartment that morning. How crazy it was that’d he’d finally found her by chance. 

She knelt down to get a good look at him, studying him for a moment. “Alright…but I’m paying for our meals. I owe you” she huffed and finally opened the door. She slid in beside him slowly and closed the door. It was awkward for a moment as she stared forward, suddenly growing self-conscious. He was looking at her. She could tell. “Aren’t you going to drive” she finally asked, turning to him. 

“You said you’d treat me to dinner and a movie. Not lunch” he chuckled and turned the key in the ignition. The vehicle sputtered to life. 

“Well we’re improvising with what we have” she laughed, finally starting to relax. She smoothed down her skirt and sat her purse on her lap. 

“Nah…we’ll do the dinner and movie some other time” he smiled and adjusted his mirror. “I pay today” he glanced over at her. She turned to face him fully with a smirk.

“What makes you think they’ll be 'some other' time?” she asked pointedly. His stiffened, briefly worried that he’d offended her, but he could see the teasing in her eyes. His chest relaxed. He grinned softly and turned back to the rode, pulling slowly into traffic. 

“Just a feeling.”


	3. "Fuck Your Boss"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She was delicate. He’d known it as soon as he’d turned to look at her that night. She was out of place. Like a feather floating in a hail storm.

She watched him through heavy eyelids as he slid into the booth across from her. It’s the first time she’d really gotten to take him in. He was even more handsome than she remembered. For weeks she’d been opening taxi doors with the subconscious hope that it would be his brown eyes that met hers in the rearview. Asking her “where too?”. But it hadn’t been him for weeks. It’d been the same old tired cabbies, middle edged grouches, cars reeking of cigarette smoke and who knows what else. She’d sigh and watch as the city sped by outside the window. Her mind wandering back to that night. She’d never felt safer in her life. Exhausted and sprawled across the backseat of a strangers’ taxi. She’d been content, comfortable enough to fall asleep after fighting fatigue, stealing glimpses at his glorious profile. 

Now she was wide awake. Alert. She wouldn’t doze off this time. She was going to really get to experience him. He was reserved, awkward, moody, even shy. They hadn’t spoken much in the car after deciding on which diner to eat at. It was a sharp contrast from his gutsy display when he’d intercepted her from the other taxi. Alone with her in the car, with the soft hum of the engine, he’d grown timid. But there was more. More lurking behind his eyes, something deeper, and she wanted a proper introduction. 

He laid his hands on the top of the table awkwardly. “Ever been here before?” he asked plainly. She shook her head gently “no”. 

He nodded a little and looked around. He was nervous. She had no idea that he’d been hoping to bump into her too. Planning to. But now he sat there lost for words, all too aware that she was observing him closely. That night in the taxi, he’d been in control. They’d met in his territory. His comfort zone. Now, outside his car, in the real world, a place he often avoided, he didn’t know how best to function. He glanced up at her. Her eyes were kind. He’d looked enough people in the eyes long enough to learn how to read the synopsis of their souls. Hers seemed inviting, warm, guarded? He blinked.

A small smile stretched across her lips. He let out a little breath of air, his lips vibrating slightly. Her honey brown skin radiated in the sunlight coming through the nearby window. In the light, he could better see the sandy shade of her soft hair. An auburn tint danced throughout her coils. She had it pulled back today, not out and flowing like the night they’d met. He liked it. He could see her face better. Her eyes. Her eyes searched him. Waiting. Speckles of amusement sparkled within the hazel pools. She was going to keep teasing him. Waiting for him to lead the dance of conversation. 

“You have to forgive me.” He finally broke, scratching a finger on the surface of the table. He looked down. “I’m a little nervous” he chuckled softly. 

“Why?” she asked genuinely. He wasn’t looking at her but he could hear the concern in her voice. He looked up fully, determined to hold her gaze. 

“I don’t get out much…don’t talk to people that often” he said softly and instantly shut his eyes tight. Why the hell would he tell her that? She smiled warmly. 

“You’re a taxi driver…you’re always out. And there’s always someone in and out of your backseat. You don’t talk to them?” she questioned softly. He opened his eyes studying her. She wasn’t making fun of him. He could tell. But the casualness of her tone made his jaw clench. It wasn’t as easy as she made it sound. He resented it. It reminded him of how far removed he was from the rest of society. 

“Being a taxi driver isn’t as exciting as you’d think” he said removing his hands from the table. Suddenly he felt the urge to pull away from her. It was a mistake to have sought her out. She was way out of his league. Her eyes flicked down to the table as he moved his hands and she bit her lip. Leaning forward, she smiled sadly.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. He looked her over with a blank expression. “I’m kind of nervous too” she sat back rubbing her arm. “I say stupid things when I’m nervous” she fidgeted slightly. They sat in silence for a moment. He cursed himself internally. He’d made her uncomfortable. He started to open his mouth, but the waiter appeared at the table. 

“What’ll you have?” she asked pulling out her pen and paper. He hesitated, glancing across the table. 

“Um…I’ll have the BLT, with a coke,” she said. The waitress jotted it down and turned a little to him. 

“I’ll just have a slice of apple pie,” he said. “Can you add cheese? Just melt some on top?” he glanced up. The waitress paused her writing for a moment but eventually nodded. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Bridgette stifle a giggle. A small smile pulled at his lips. 

“Anything to drink?”

“Just water” he’d brought his hands back to the top of the table and drummed them slightly as the waitress walked away. 

“Apple pie with melted cheese?” her laughter erupted finally. He grinned and brought his eyes up to meet hers. 

“It’s good” he shrugged. “I’ll let you try it”. 

She nodded still smiling. “Okay, I trust you.” 

There was another awkward silence as they looked at each other. 

“So how have you been? Since that night? He hasn’t come back around has he?” he eventually broke the hush that had fallen over them. 

“No. Thank god. I haven’t seen him around, but I’m not going back to that restaurant anytime soon.” She shifted in her seat. 

He nodded and looked away. This was painfully awkward. What could he say at this moment? Now that she wasn’t terrified and reliant on him for safety, what did he have to offer her? “Did you call the police?” he pressed a little. She smiled softly and shook her head. 

“I don’t think it’ll be much of an issue. He doesn’t even know my last name. It’s not like he can find me in the books.” she said. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“What’s what?” 

“Your last name?” he chuckled poking at the napkin dispenser. “I know your first name, but you never told me your last name” he glanced at her. He could see the apprehension in her eyes. 

“Now why do you think I’d tell you that if I didn’t even tell him?” she laughed a little but he could see she was still a bit reluctant. He thought about laying off but pressed on. 

“I’m just asking. I’d been looking for your name in the books so I could maybe call you. Check on you, but realized I didn’t have a last name.”

She blushed deeply. “Yeah. I bet that was frustrating. There’s probably a thousand Bridgette’s in this city” she sighed. 

“Yeah but there’s only one you, and I wanted to make sure it was you I’d found” he blurted it out. He blinked. Had that been too forward? The expression on her face said it was, but it also said she liked the directness. Her eyes were wide and a small smirk danced on her lips. She looked down at her lap. The waitress appeared before them placing the plates down and their drinks. She asked them if they needed anything else, they’d both said no, and she’d moved on to another table. Bridgette’s BLT was piled high with mostly tomato and she frowned a little. He crinkled up his nose and huffed. 

“Should’ve gotten pie like me” he teased. She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Here you try it first” he pushed his plate towards her gently. 

“No, no. It’s yours. I can eat whatever you don’t want after” she waved her hands. He gave her a look that said “just try the damn pie”, and she chuckled. She reached towards the plate with her fork and flacked a bit off the tip, making sure to scoop some of the melted cheese on top. She pinched her nose dramatically and brought the fork to her mouth. He laughed shaking his head at her theatrical display. She chewed and chewed, and then her eyes grew wide. He watched her with a sheepish grin. 

“Good huh?” 

“Yeah” she mumbled as she swallowed. He nodded for her to get some more. 

“I can’t” she chuckled.

“But you want to” he grinned, pushing the plate closer. 

She laughed and took another swipe with her fork. “How the hell did you come to realize that was a good combination?” she asked after she’d satisfied herself. He shrugged. 

“I like salty and sweet things, so I just threw some cheese on one day to see, and I’ve only eaten pie like that ever sense” he pulled the plate back towards him and started digging in.  
“So…your last name?” he raised an eyebrow as he put the fork in his mouth. 

“You first” she crossed her arms. “Travis…who?” she leaned forward rubbing her chin scholarly. He chuckled and took another bite. He liked the way his name sounded on her tongue. He liked it even more that she had remembered. He was all too aware that the name was common.

“Bickle. Travis Bickle” he laid the fork down and stared at her. Waiting. She nodded, letting the name settle in the air. 

“I think we’ve met before Mr. Bickle, but it’s nice to see you again. I’m Bridgette Foster” she extended her hand across the table. He took it and gently squeezed. 

“I think we have, and the pleasure’s all mine” he grinned. He held her hand another moment and she blushed. He let go and went back to his pie. They were silent for some time. He caught glimpses of her trying to figure out how to maneuver her sandwich and chuckled to himself. She laughed and threw her hands down on the table, giving up. 

“You want to order a pie?” he asked through chews. She bit her lip. He chuckled and waved the waitress over. “Can we get another pie with cheese please?” 

As the waitress walked away, he watched Bridgette tuck a loose curl behind her ear. “You’re hair. I um…I like it a lot” he mumbled as he wiped his hands. He’d finished his pie in record time, and now sat there feeling kind of silly.

She brought her hand to the back of her low sitting bun and smiled softly. “Thank you”. 

“It was one of the first things I noticed the other night” he continued as he rung his hands under the table. How do you flirt without coming off as a creep? “I think the texture is uh…gorgeous” he coughed awkwardly and looked away. 

“Thanks. I guess it’s one of the perks of being black.” 

He looked back at her and sucked in a breath. They were living in an interesting time. It was the late 70s. Segregation hadn’t been that long ago, but it was far enough away now to where it wasn’t so odd that he, a white man, was sitting across from her at a diner in the daytime. But still, things were tense, especially in New York. So many different ethnic groups crowded into different boroughs, and different ghettos. They closed themselves off from each other and all clambered with each other to survive. Like crabs in a barrel. 

They were all more alike than they believed; poverty shaped their day to days. The shitty government and its lackluster city programs were the real problems. But they didn’t see it that way. They took the easy route. Identifying differences in their shades of skin, the textures of their hair, their accents. They separated themselves by only looking at the superficial surface level, not the deeper layers that would expose their likeness. 

“I didn’t mean to offend you” he started. His heart rate had sped up in the moment he’d taken to analyze the politics between them. He hadn’t really thought about the implications of her being a black woman. He just knew that she was beautiful and that he liked her. She raised her hands stopping him.

“You didn’t” she laughed. He took a breath and sat back. “I’m flattered honestly…I don’t hear compliments towards my hair that often.” She smiled gently and tapped her hand on the table. “In fact, the only reason I have it pulled back this way is because my boss told me having my fro out was unprofessional and it looked wild” she huffed. She couldn’t tell why she’d shared that, but she sensed a sort of understanding, a willingness to listen and learn from Travis. “So I appreciate it” she added. She saw his jaw clench and he shifted slightly in his seat. 

“The bank…that’s where you work? I saw you coming out of there before I pulled over” he mused. She nodded. He was silent for a moment. “Fuck your boss,” he said lowly, leaning forward. She chuckled. 

“Yeah he’s a real prick” she rolled her eyes playfully. She could see a real genuine fire in Travis’ eyes though. It made her nervous but also slightly excited. He was angry on her behalf. Protective. He drummed his hands for a moment. His eyes were hard. 

“You should be able to wear your hair however, whenever. That’s bullshit” he said looking at her. She nodded a little still basking in his territorial reaction. The waitress appeared again laying down the pie. She hesitated and pushed the plate towards him. 

“You get some first. I ate off yours” she smiled trying to break some of the tension. His eyes softened and his jaw loosened. He shook his head.

"I've had enough pie." He waved a hand. She shrugged and pulled the plate back to her. 

“Want this bacon?” she pointed to the untouched BLT. He nodded and she handed him the plate. They munched in silence as time passed. 

“So…where you from? I can tell you’re not a native New Yorker by your accent, but I don’t recognize it.” He laid his elbows on the table and leaned forward with a slight glimmer in his eyes. She wiped her hands and pushed her plate away. Leaning forward and mirroring his movements, she squinted at him. 

“Where do you think I’m from?” she quizzed. He thought for a moment and rubbed his chin.

“Somewhere west coast…you’ve got that flashy style like one of those Hollywood movie stars, so probably California” he grinned. Her cheeks flushed a little as she shook her head. “No?” he gasped softly and sat back. He looked around in thought. “Midwest? Maybe Kansas?” 

“Nope…I’m from the South” she wore a proud expression on her face. He laid his elbows back on the table and frowned. She reached over and swatted his arm playfully. She’d use any excuse to touch him. He laughed and shrugged. 

“What’s wrong with the south?” 

“Nothing…nothing…I…you just don’t sound like you’re from the south. You don’t have a drawl”.

She huffed slightly. “That’s a stereotype. We don’t all sound like that, but those that do, are some of the nicest people you’ll ever meet”.

He nodded as he watched her. He liked the shine in her eyes as she talked about where she was from. “So which state?” 

“Georgia. I was born in Savannah, but I’ve lived most of my life in Atlanta” she breathed blissfully. He couldn’t help the little smile that stretched across his lips. 

“I take it you miss it. New York not treating you too nice?” he leaned forward again. 

She laughed. “Well besides being cursed out every time I set foot on the sidewalk, or the high prices, and small living quarters, New York’s been just dandy” she exclaimed sarcastically. He sighed and nodded. 

“It’s tough. I won’t lie. I’ve lived here all my life, so I’m used to it, but sometimes the bullshit even catches me off guard. I’m guessing what you experienced the other night with that asshole didn’t do much to make you like the city anymore?” 

“That could’ve happened anywhere” she waved her hand. “It didn’t help, but I’m used to it. Men catcall and do stupid shit like that in Atlanta too” she sighed. He frowned slightly, processing the fact that her life as a woman came with constant harassment anywhere, anytime. 

“I’ve always wanted to visit Atlanta.” His fingers drummed softly. “Heard a lot of stuff about it.” He raised his gaze to hers. She was chewing her bottom lip.

“I’ll take you one day” she blurted with a nervous chuckle. He grinned trying to process that she was flirting with him. He sighed in relief. He obviously wasn’t doing so bad at whatever this was.

“After we do dinner and a movie right?”

“Right” she laughed. 

“So what’s it like though? Really?” 

“It’s…I don’t know. It’s a major city, but it doesn’t have the same cutthroat atmosphere as New York.” She thought for a moment. “It’s more relaxed. Things move slower, but it’s still exciting. There’s so much to do, so much to see but it’s not overwhelming. It’s more rural in a way too. There’s a beautiful skyline, but there are actual trees spread out throughout the city, not like here where they only exist in Central Park”.

He laughed and lowered his eyes. “Sounds like you miss it.” 

“I do…there’s nothing like it” she said softly staring off into space. He watched the sadness creep over her face like a shadow. He wanted desperately to move to her side of the table and wrap his arms around her. She was delicate. He’d known it as soon as he’d turned to look at her that night. She was out of place. Like a feather floating in a hail storm. He could sense that New York had been rough on her.

She had laid her hands on the table a while back. He looked down at them, hesitating at first, but slowly moved his hands to rest on top of hers. She didn’t jerk away, but her eyes darted to his. He’d brought her out of the fog.

“Why’d you come here?” he asked, tapping his fingers on her knuckles gently. She felt warm beneath his touch. Her skin a soft contrast to his rough palms. 

“Work” her voice was just above a whisper. She gulped. “I’m a writer…um…so I came up here for a writing job. Moved here this time last year.” 

He blinked. She’d been in this city a whole year, and he’d never bumped into her. What a sick joke. 

“But you work at the bank now,” he thought aloud. She nodded looking down. 

“I had a job at a newspaper, but I hated it. My heart’s in creative writing, and I just felt stunted there. So I quit” she chuckled sadly. “I do freelance creative writing now, but that doesn’t pay the bills, so I had to get a job as a teller.”

He gripped her hands a little firmer, being sure not to squeeze too tight. “You realized your talents weren’t being appreciated and started doing things on your terms. You kept moving.” He encouraged.

She smiled gently and let out a soft chuckle. “I never really look at it that way. Just that I came all the way up here and failed.” She looked down. 

“No. This city eats motherfuckers up and spits them back out 24/7. I’ve seen failure. You have not failed.” He smiled giving her hands another squeeze. He didn’t want to release but could feel his breathing speeding up. He couldn’t keep touching her like this. He pulled away. 

“Thanks” she muttered bashfully. There was a moment of silence. “What about you? Have you always been a taxi driver?”

“No...” his answer was immediate and he squirmed a little. This was the part of the conversation he had been dreading the most. Talking about himself. She waited patiently as he let the silence thicken. She cocked her head eventually, pressing him to keep going. “I got drafted a couple years after high school” he mumbled. “Been driving ever since I got back” he looked everywhere but her.

“Vietnam?” she asked softly. He nodded. 

“Went to a training base down in South Carolina before they shipped us over. Closest I’d ever been to Atlanta” he perked up trying to steer the conversation back to her, but she just looked at him. He held his breath and waited. This was the moment. He knew it.

She’d get up and storm out. No one wanted to have a casual lunch with a baby killer. No one wanted to be associated with a fucked up vet who’d damn near lost his mind. But she didn’t move. Didn’t even blink for a moment. 

“That’s admirable” she finally settled on something to bring the conversation back from the brink of collapse. She sounded sincere. He couldn't detect judgment, but he took a moment to search her eyes for disdain. He found none. “It’s just awful how…how the media treated you all when-” 

“Yeah” he didn’t let her finish the sentence.

She gulped cursing herself internally. She hadn’t known what to really say. She had her own thoughts about the war, but they had never been directed at the soldiers. Hell, her brother had been one. And he’d died there fighting for a system that turned its back on all the ones who’d made it home. A country that placed its soldiers on the frontline to do its violent bidding. He’d died in vain. Died fighting on behalf of the true adversary. 

“Travis” she started. She reached for his hands but he pulled them back abruptly out of sight underneath the table. “I’m sorry” was all she managed, gulping down the lump that had formed in her throat. He sat there staring at his lap. The waitress appeared suddenly with the bill. She had been saving their asses all night, showing up when things were awkward. Travis took it and took some cash out of his pocket. 

“I can pay for my BLT. I feel like I’d be wasting your money since I didn’t even eat it” she went for her purse. 

“Nope. We’re not doing this again. I got it” he chuckled. She looked up. His eyes had softened and he seemed to have relaxed a little. She smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Sorry about that by the way…I shouldn’t have pulled away from you like that.” He laid the money on the bill and the waitress grabbed it as she passed by, heading back to the kitchen. 

“No…it’s fine” she stammered. He shook his head. 

“It’s not. You were trying to comfort me, and I shut you out. That was an asshole move.” He laid his hands back on the table, stretching them towards her end. “Here,” he said gently. 

She blushed deeply as she reached for his hands. She placed hers on top of his the way he had done but thought for a moment. Moving gently, she turned his wrist slowly, forcing his palms to face up. He chuckled a little and shifted, but didn’t stop her. She looked up at him and then back down and began rubbing her fingers inside his palms softly, tracing every callus. She felt him stiffen, but he didn’t pull away. She didn’t know what had come over her. This was extremely intimate, but it felt natural, necessary. 

She looked up again meeting his gaze. His eyes were trained on her. A stare of longing? Need? It was evident in the slight expansion of his pupils that he was craving something, but what? He started to speak but was interrupted when the waitress reappeared. This time her presence was not appreciated. Bridgette pulled back instinctively as if she’d been caught. Travis blinked and moved his hands back to his lap. The waitress eyed them for a moment then laid down his change. 

“Thanks. Have a nice day.” She walked away again. 

They sat for a moment as he counted out the waitresses tip and stuffed the remaining bills back into his pocket. Bridgette was looking out the window when he brought his eyes back to her. She refused to look back at him for a moment. His gaze was burning into her, but she didn’t want to meet it immediately. Embarrassment had crept into her. And something else. It sat low in her stomach and fluttered softly to a rhythm that made her cross her legs. She breathed slowly. He waited. She could still feel his eyes. 

“What?” she finally chuckled turning to him.

“Nothing” he breathed with a soft smile.

“It’s gotta be something. What? Do I have something on my face?” 

He shook his head.

“Something in my teeth then?” 

“Nope. I’m just looking at you” 

She sighed and stared back at him

“I think you’re very pretty,” he said softly after a moment. His gaze dropped to her neck. He could see her skin start to flush and watched the redness trail like a forest fire up to her cheeks. He inaudibly clicked his tongue. 

“Thank you. I think you’re pretty too” she offered after a brief moment. 

He laughed and so did she.

\--- 

“So what did you tell your boss about the meter the other night?” she asked. They were back in his taxi, headed towards the bank. She watched as a small smirk broke out across his face.

“I told him the truth,” he said. She leaned forward in her seat to get a better look at his full face. 

“And how did he react?”

“He fired me” 

“Travis…” she started. He sucked his teeth.

“You didn’t notice this was a different taxi did you?” he glanced over at her. 

“You got hired somewhere else?” 

He shook his head as he made a right turn. “I bought my own taxi” he smiled proudly. 

“I didn’t know you could do that,” she said.

“Yep. Like you’re a freelance writer, I’m a freelance driver” he laughed. 

She chuckled, glancing out the window. “That’s awesome. It must be nice to not have to answer to someone and set your own schedule.”

“Yeah…more freedom, and more money.” He slowed as he neared the bank. She sighed. She didn’t want to go back to work. She hadn’t told Travis everything about her boss. He wasn’t just prejudice, he was also a perv. 

He parked and turned to her, sensing her apprehension. “If you want to quit, you can just drive around with me forever” he teased, but a part of him was deathly serious. “We can start our own business. ‘Taxi Tales’ ” he hummed mysteriously, arching an eyebrow. She laughed. “I drive and you read some of your writings to the passengers. Whattaya say?”

“That sounds tempting” she admitted. God, she wanted to stay with him. Spend more time. Hours if she could. She glanced at her watch. She had to be back on the clock in 10 minutes. He relaxed back and watched her. 

“It’s okay. Next time.” He seemed to answer for her. She nodded. 

“Are you free this weekend?” she blurted. 

“I can be.”

She blushed at that. 

“Alright let’s do dinner Friday night, and maybe a movie Saturday?” she pressed. 

He grinned. “You trying to use an excuse to see me two days in a row?” he raised an eyebrow. She rolled her eyes. 

“No, I just figured if it doesn’t go well at dinner, I can just ditch you the next day” she pursed her lips. His smile faded briefly, but he quickly realized she was joking and breathed a soft chuckle. 

“It’s a date,” he said firmly. She giggled and nodded. 

They stared at each other for a moment. He didn’t want to be the first to move because he didn’t want to make her feel cornered in his car. Didn’t want to screw up the trust they'd built. But he wanted to touch her again badly. Seeming to sense his need, she leaned forward and pecked his cheek, grazing his jaw gently with the tips of her fingers. He felt her eyelashes flutter against his temple. All breathing stopped. Time froze. He was floating. And then she pulled away. 

He came back all at once. She sat back and regarded him tenderly. She was blushing. He knew he was too. He hadn’t blushed since middle school when he’d been tricked into playing a game of truth or dare. He felt like a schoolboy again. A schoolboy who was helplessly in love with his crush. He blinked. 

“Bye Travis. Thanks for everything. I’ll see you Friday?” she smiled with a slight nervous inflection in her voice. 

“W-what time?” he stuttered. 

“Oh yeah…does 7 work?”

He nodded. “Do you want me to pick you up at your place?”

“You remember where?”

“How could I forget?” he shut his eyes as soon as he said it. Way to hint that you’ve been driving past everyday buddy. He could feel his face flushing an even deeper red. He heard her giggle and he opened his eyes. She was smiling. She didn’t seem the slightest bit alarmed or upset. He sighed. 

“Yeah my place is fine” she nodded. She ducked her head awkwardly and clicked the handle opening the door. 

“Hey…” he called. She turned. “Don’t let your boss screw with your head. Fuck ‘em. Have a nice day” he beamed. She chuckled and nodded. He watched her as she bounced out of the car, and jogged into the building. 

He smiled wide and leaned his head back lazily for a moment. “Friday” he muttered to himself. “Friday at 7. 315 East Ave.” he started up the taxi and drifted back into traffic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the kudos and to everyone whose been reading!


	4. Dress Casual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But nothing ever felt right. No immediate sparks. No pull. Until Travis. There was something about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter, but I wanted to go ahead and upload. I hope this quarantine is going well for everyone. Stay safe!

Bridgette kept circling throughout her apartment, finding things to correct. Items to straighten, and surfaces to clean. She had never done this. Never even entertained the idea. She was a complete novice in the field of courtship. Naïve and unfamiliar. She’d been out alone at dinner that night for a reason. She didn’t date. Didn’t know how to. She hadn’t dated back home, and she hadn’t made an effort to start when she’d moved to New York. Not having the time was always an easy go-to excuse. It made sense. She’d been so focused on finishing school and then she’d started working. Who had the time? But she knew deep down that she purposely avoided several opportunities. She could’ve been married by now if she’d wanted to. But nothing ever felt right. No immediate sparks. No pull. Until Travis. There was something about him. 

It was clear that they were about to embark on the beginnings of something, but she didn’t know what the expectations were. What was normal at this stage? She’d been a bit more relaxed at lunch the other day, but this was a date. An established romantic commitment. Would he ask to come in after they got back? That’s what she was stressing about the most. She was praying to God that he wouldn’t, not because she didn’t want to host him, but because she knew what the implications of bringing someone up were. And she didn’t want to have the agonizing conversation about how she had no experience in that department. Didn’t want the shame of his sudden disinterest in her. A handsome man like Travis had to have a lot of options, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to compete with more experienced women. 

She placed her hands firmly on the side of her head and took a couple of deep breaths. She’d been agonizing over the peck on the cheek she’d given him for days. Had that been too much? Too early? God, what had she been thinking when she’d traced his palms like that? It’s like there was another version of her that switched on around him. Was he expecting that version tonight? No. Travis wouldn’t be like that. Would he? Had she led him to think she was someone she wasn’t? Or was she truly that person? Regardless, he’d seen what she’d gone through the other day. He wouldn’t turn around and pounce on her in the same way. Right? Yet, here she was still cleaning her place, just in case. Just in case that other side of her felt compelled to bring him up. If Travis did find his way into her apartment, she at least wanted it to look nice. 

She stopped pacing for a moment and stood in front of the mirror. She was wearing a suede front button up skirt that was stitched in patches of various neutral brown and orange shades. Tucked into it was a forest green sweater, and shin-high black boots finished off the look. She bit her lip and smoothed down the texture of the turtle neck.

Travis had called her the day before. With her last name now, he'd been able to find her number listed in the books. She’d giggled slightly at the fact that they’d both been so flustered by the end of their conversation the other day, that they’d forgot to exchange numbers. Nonetheless, she was glad he’d found her. They’d spoken briefly about how each other’s day was going, and then he’d asked what restaurant she had in mind. Since she insisted on paying this time, he wanted her to choose. Although she hadn’t lived in New York for a long-time, she’d grown familiar with the restaurant scene. She’d gone out a couple of times with coworkers and had a place in mind. It was a nice Italian restaurant. Italian food was her favorite, but she'd detected his hesitation on the other side of the line. 

“What’s wrong? If you don’t like Italian, we can go somewhere else?” she’d blurted after his silence became unbearable. 

“No..no. It’s not that…I just…how should I dress? I never know how to dress for fancy places like that.” She'd imagined the sheepish grin on his face. The shyness of his voice brought a smile to her lips, and she’d chuckled. 

“I promise it’s not that fancy of a place. It’s nice but casual," she'd insisted. She could hear him click his tongue softly. The airiness of his shaky breath rasped through the receiver. She’d stood anxiously curling the phone cord around her fingers as she bit her lip. Was he just looking for a way out? With a soft chuckle, he’d agreed and wished her a good night. Breathing a sigh of relief, she’d hung up a moment later. 

Now as she looked at her outfit, she grew anxious. He was right. She did have a flashy style, and she hoped it didn’t mess up the vibe. She hadn’t given him a clear direction on what to wear because she honestly didn’t care. She just wanted to see him. It didn’t matter how he showed up. But she hoped her glam didn’t make him feel self-conscious if he showed up dressed completely down. Didn’t want to scare him off. 

She sighed as she played with her hair. It was pulled back like it was the other day. He’d said he’d liked it like that, right? She shook her head at the thought and took out the rubber band. It was too early to start purposely modifying her appearance to appease him. She couldn’t let on that she was already that sprung. She shook her hair back out to its full fluffiness and glanced at the clock on her bed stand. It was just 6:27 pm. She pulled the window blinds back to get a peek at the street, and there he was, already parked and waiting in the front of her building. She recognized his taxi and could see him sitting in the driver's seat. The idea of him arriving so early, made her stomach flutter. She grinned goofily and grabbed her purse. No point in waiting. She’d been dying to see him again. 

As she approached, she saw him glance up. He’d been fidgeting with something in his lap. His eyes widened a bit, and he moved to hop out. She stopped and waited on the sidewalk as he approached her with a wide grin. 

“You look…wow…uh…here.” He jutted a bouquet of white roses at her awkwardly. She smiled warmly and took them from him.

“These are gorgeous.” She breathed in the scent as she brought them near to her face.

He stood with his hands clasped behind his back and rocked on his heels. She hadn’t commented on his outfit yet. The nerves were growing. As she lowered the bouquet, she eyed him. He held his breath and waited. He’d gone out and shopped for this date. He hadn’t stepped foot in a clothing store in years, but he knew he had to make an impression tonight. He was dressed in a burnt orange corduroy ranger suit, with a black turtleneck underneath. It was tailored perfectly. He shuffled around restlessly in slightly platformed black dress shoes that further emphasized their height difference. 

It didn’t necessarily feel like him, but more like someone he could become. Someone confident and sure of himself. Someone who deserved to be with a woman like Bridgette. He liked it. It felt like he was playing dress up for Halloween. That had always been his favorite holiday as a kid. That one day to become someone you weren’t. An excuse to be something more and live out a fantasy. And being with her, was sort of like that. A dream. He didn’t mind going outside the lines a little for her. 

“Travis!” She covered her mouth to suppress a squeal. He fidgeted nervously. 

“You’ve out-dressed me.” She reached to pluck at the collar of his jacket, admiring the material. He grinned allowing himself to relax. She circled him, eyeballing the suit and couldn’t help but blush. Had he done all this to impress her? It was a loud suit, and clearly out of his comfort zone based on the way he awkwardly stood in it. But damn, did it look good on him.

“So you like it?” He asked hesitantly. 

“Yes yes! You look very handsome.”

“Uh, you do too. No...I mean...not handso-. You look nice," he stammered. She giggled and gave him a nod of understanding. “Yeah, you look amazing.” His mouth had finally caught up with his brain. “Not that you haven’t always looked amazing” now it was getting ahead of itself. He shifted and shut his eyes tightly for a moment, growing dizzy from embarrassment. She giggled softly and gripped his arm. 

“Thank you."

He allowed his eyes to flutter open and held his breath when he realized how close she was to him now. The right side of his lips pulled up into a tight smile, and he looked down bashfully. 

“I um…I thought since you know, since it’s a date, we should have the full experience," he murmured. She released him and stepped back a little waiting with a smile. “What do you say we hail a taxi instead of me driving my own? Give you my full undivided attention. How about that?” He rubbed his cheek. 

She giggled and nodded. “I’d like that.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm” 

He grinned and reached for her hand, pulling her gently to the edge of the sidewalk. A taxi was cruising down the street just in time. He waved and popped the back door open a moment later, ushering her in first. 

“Where too?” the driver asked as they scooted in. 

“Mamma in Cucina” Bridgette smiled. 

The driver nodded and flicked the meter on after Travis closed the door. 

“That driver must be preoccupied." The driver motioned his head towards Travis’ parked taxi with a grunt. 

“Yeah, the guy hopped out and told us he was off the clock. Yelling about some big date he had to get to.” Bridgette chimed up immediately. Travis shot her a humorous grin and laid his arm across the back of the seat. 

The driver snorted and pulled off into traffic. “Guys missing out on big money just staying parked like that.”

“I don’t know man.” Travis yawned casually. “We got a look at his date. She was definitely worth being off the clock for a couple hours.” He glanced out the window, feeling his cheeks beginning to burn. He felt Bridgette squeeze his knee gently and he bit down on his knuckle to suppress a laugh. He looked over. She was holding the bouquet of roses tightly to her chest, chuckling silently. He felt giddy sharing the back seat with a woman who seemed to share his sense of humor. The driver glanced back and shot him a look.

“Buddy you’re not supposed to talk like that in front of your woman,” he chuckled weaving through traffic. 

“Oh, we’re siblings… twins actually." Bridgette deadpanned. 

Travis jerked his head towards her, his eyes widening. She responded with a smirk and a raise of an eyebrow, urging him to go along with it. He nodded.

"Fraternal." He added instinctively.

“Oh…um…” The driver’s intrusive demeanor suddenly simmered out. They watched him try to process the revelation as his eyes bounced back and forth between the two of them in the rearview. They just stared at him in silence. Eventually he focused his attention back on the road. 

Travis tapped his foot on hers lightly, and she shrugged with smile. He moved closer to her, the heat of their bodies pressing together. He thought about pulling her in for a kiss. They’d really freak the driver out then. But he hesitated, his nerves taking over as his courage fizzled out. He settled for bringing his arm off from the seat rest and moving it smoothly behind her back, nuzzling her in slightly. She smiled and laid her head on his shoulder as they sped off towards the restaurant.

The driver threw them a couple of odd glances as he maneuvered through traffic, but neither one of them cared. Giggling silently every so often, they found delight in their inside joke. What they had was theirs’. And it felt oddly satisfying, keeping the world at bay from their delicate, blossoming romance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you all think this date is going to go well? lol


	5. No Red Sauce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had his own philosophy about existing in crowds. Stay small, and out of sight. Blend in. Don’t speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I just want to warn that this chapter touches on a PTSD trigger and briefly mentions graphic violence from the past. I don't think it's too bad, but I want to be conscious of other reader's experiences, so please be advised. I hope you enjoy.

“You know… actually…I’m part Italian.”

Travis was taking in the atmosphere of the restaurant, trying to throw out random conversation to appear more relaxed than he was. They’d just been seated. The checkered floor was polished to perfection. You could almost make out your reflection in the tiles. Too clean. That was his first take on the place as he’d followed in behind her, holding the door as she walked in. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah on my father’s side. I think he’s got a little German in there too, but mostly Italian.” He glanced around at all the other tables. Businessmen, well-off families, stable couples. He took note. 

He was out of his element, but he was with her, so in a way he felt mildly validated.

The lights were dim and soft instrumental jazz played. As his eyes wandered, they became fixated on a grand piano on display across the room. The way it just took up space for no reason made his eyes twitch slightly. It was there to be admired, gawked at. It demanded an audience although it provided no show for the crowd. He had his own philosophy about existing in crowds. Stay small, and out of sight. Blend in. Don’t speak. His brow raised at the juxtaposition. Yeah, he wasn’t supposed to be here. He fidgeting, suppressing the thought. 

“So yeah…I’m excited to try some authentic food. My father wasn’t much of a cook,” he continued bringing his gaze back to her. 

She chuckled and fanned out her napkin before placing it in her lap. She reached for one of the pieces of bread the hostess had laid down.

“How about your mother?” She took a bite.

“Irish.” He reached for bread as well. He needed something to do with his hands. 

“Well then, next time we should go out to a pub.” She chewed watching him intently. She could sense that he wasn’t all there.

He gave a sheepish grin and took a big bite after rotating the bread in his fingers for a while. He picked up one of the menus a moment later and leafed through, furrowing his eyebrows as his frustration grew. All the words looked jumbled and the fancy cursive font gave him a headache. When he was younger, his father had tried to teach him Italian as well as a bit of Sicilian, but he’d never really caught on. He didn’t recognize a single word and didn’t know where to begin ordering. 

“What’s something that doesn’t have red sauce in it?” He leaned forward and asked in a hushed tone. She blinked trying to process his question.

“Like marinara and pasta sauces?”

“Yeah, I guess. Like what meals on her come with some type of red sauce or dip” he fidgeted nervously. “I guess a better question is which ones don’t?” 

She raised an eyebrow slightly then reached for her menu. She looked through for a moment and then pointed to an item. 

“This sounds super fancy, but it’s a basic mushroom pasta with a creamy truffle sauce.”

“So no red?” 

“No red,” she confirmed with a giggle.

“Good. I’ll get that then.” He ran a hand through his hair and sat back.

She frowned and narrowed her eyes. “Are you allergic to red sauces? I know that’s a thing.” 

“Yeah, something like that…it…uh…it makes me kind of sick.” He smiled awkwardly and took a sip of water. 

She watched him. Something was off. He’d been super relaxed in the taxi, but since they’d stepped foot in the restaurant, he’d been on edge. 

“Travis…we can leave and go somewhere else if you don’t like this kind of food,” she assured. He shook his head roughly. 

“No. I’m fine. This is great. It’s nice” He ducked his head stiffly, took a deep breath and brought his gaze up to hers. “So…tell me about Savannah. You said you were born there”. 

He watched a smile spread across her lips and his heart ached slightly. It was just enough to put out the little fires that had started in his head. A cool sensation settled over him as he began to relax. 

For a short while, everything else faded away. His awareness, dissolving as he listened to her speak. A spotlight appeared to shine on her as his periphery shrunk, the lights seeming to dim even further. He smiled lazily as he watched her lips. 

The waiter came and interrupted them at some point, quickly taking their orders. He stuck with the pasta she’d suggested. Then, they jumped right back into the conversation. The way she described Savannah, made him want to pack up everything and hit the road. Her eyes sparkled as she spoke about it more so than they had about even Atlanta. Savannah was her heart, and he longed to see it. Anything that dear to her was worthy of experiencing. She spoke of the decievingly beautiful Spanish moss, the humidity, the good food. He just listened, absorbing her joy. 

“You know, they say it’s the most haunted city in the country.” She beamed. 

He chuckled. “You believe in that stuff?” 

She thought for a moment. “I’ve never experienced anything, but I like the idea of being scared. I don’t know. I know that sounds crazy, but I love the rush of excitement you get when you hear a ghost story. How your skin prickles up and your hairs raise.” She shrugged with a sigh, eying him to see if he thought she was nuts. 

He nodded with understanding, flashing a grin. He’d been fond of horror books and films growing up. There was an addictive adrenaline rush that came from all of the suspense. 

“Here you are.” The waiter suddenly appeared and laid down their plates. “Anything else?”

Travis shook his head. 

“No I think we’re good,” Bridgette said and the waiter politely excused himself a moment later. 

“But enough about me. How about you? You’ve been here all your life. There have to be some hidden gems in the city. What makes New York so great? What am I missing? ” She stuck her fork deep into a spaghetti sauce drenched meatball and looked up in anticipation. He was frozen, gaping at her plate with a stone expression. 

The color on his face drained drastically as he clenched his fists tightly on top of the table. He’d been so focused on her talking, that he’d completely missed her order the spaghetti. Maybe he would have been able to prepare for his reaction if he’d caught that. She watched him as he watched her spin a couple of spaghetti noodles and scoop them up on the fork with the meatball. 

“What?” she took a bite and chewed slowly. He blinked and unclasped his hands for a moment but then he tightened again. 

He couldn’t do this now. Not now in front of her, not at a restaurant. He focused on breathing and could slowly feel his blood begin rushing again. All his senses had seemed to shut off for a moment. 

“Nothing,” he croaked and looked away. He pulled his hands off the table abruptly and allowed them to grip at each other firmly in his lap. 

“Travis…something's wrong. Tell me.” She placed her fork down and reached across the table, pleading for him to give her his hands. 

He looked down at her delicate fingers longingly. How calming her touch had felt the other day. She’d caressed his calloused hands, seeming to soothe away every ache of guilt, every physical reminder from the force of the M60 he’d used in Vietnam. His palms were permanently marked with evidence of his atrocities, but she’d touched them as if they belonged to those of an innocent, scared child. 

He’d seen innocence and fear collide as a product of his own doing, and knew he was not worthy of such grace. He shut his eyes tightly. He’d experienced enough of these fits to know, if he gave her his hands now, he might end up hurting her. 

“I’m fine.” He shuddered gently. 

How the hell could he explain that her plate reminded him of the open skull, oozing brains and blood, that had belonged to his friend, Paul? A day he’d never forget. His unit had been ambushed by the Viet Cong, and he’d been one of the only to survive. The image of Paul’s lifeless body had burned itself into his conscience. He’d gone on to see worse. To do worse. Enough blood to make Dracula salivate for centuries. Since he’d returned, ketchup, red sauces, red food dyes, anything that resembled blood and gore, had been cut out of his diet. He didn't even want to see it. The bright liquid substances triggered something he worked hard to suppress. 

“Is it the sauce?” She whispered tapping her fingers on the table lightly. Worry grew in her chest, but she tried to remain calm. “Are you allergic to the point that you can’t breathe it in? I can have them take it back and order something else.” She searched him with pleading eyes. Begging him to just tell her what was wrong. 

“No its… it’s not that. Excuse me.” He stood abruptly and hurried to the bathroom. 

“Travis” She called, then sat back and sighed. Her shoulders growing heavy as she processed what had happened. 

She had to admit that his mood swings were a major red flag. He could be charming and awkwardly shy at times. But there was something more that he wasn’t letting on about. Something tragically murky about his past. It was driving her mad. She crossed her arms in frustration. What the hell was he hiding?

\---

In the bathroom, he lurched over a toilet bowl as sweat poured down his face. He had pulled off his suit jacket and thrown it over the stall to cool himself. Once his stomach had been completely emptied, he slumped against the stall wall, leaning his head back. 

“Fuck.” He muttered. “Fuck.” He kicked the opposite wall in frustration. He clenched his fists and pounded the top of his head roughly. “Fuck.” He slid completely down to the floor.

He sat there for a moment in a heap of despair and shame. He figured she’d left by now. There was no need to rush back out. No way she’d stick around after that episode. She probably thought he was a freak. Never wanting to see him again. She was already in the back of some other taxi headed back to her place. He was sure of it. He sighed heavily into his hands and then pushed himself up to stand, steadying himself on the wall. He felt his stomach flip again and braced for another wave, but it settled. He grabbed his suit jacket off the stall door and stumbled out to the sink. 

“You alright buddy?” A man had just entered and was heading to a urinal.

Travis nodded sleepily and flipped on the sink nozzle. He used the water to wipe around his mouth and gargle the taste out. He looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes were red and puffy from throwing up so aggressively. He looked a fucking mess. He shook his head roughly as he grabbed napkins to wipe his hands and face. He didn’t even bother putting his jacket back on or resettling his hair as he walked to exit the bathroom. 

The man at the urinal glanced at him once and shrugged nonchalantly, assuming he was a drunk. Travis was used to that. Being misjudged and disregarded at the times when he needed help the most. He sneered to himself and clenched his hands. He felt that familiar urge to connect his fist with something. His eyes glazed over as his heartbeat slowed. 

He could pummel the guy good, and he’d feel better. He knew it. That was his routine. Trigger. Violence. Assimilation. It’s how he got through his days. It’s how he survived. He turned on his heels to face the guy, deciding it was best to get the beating over with. The man had his back to him. He knew it was wrong to sucker punch someone but didn’t have the luxury to give in to his conscience at the moment. He was raising his fist when the bathroom door suddenly swung open. 

“Travis.” 

He turned slowly still in his daze of rage. Bridgette stood there staring at him, searching his eyes. For a brief moment, she could barely recognize him. His eyes wandered her obscurely. His face sat in an altered, dark scowl. She flinched back a little but stood her ground. 

“Are you alright?” She asked gently but stern enough.

“Hey lady. This is the men’s bathroom.” The guy at the urinal chuckled leaning back, oblivious to the lashing he’d just avoided. 

“Fuck off.” She snapped. “Travis…come on. Let’s go.” She extended her hand. 

He’d slowly been regaining his composure. His heartbeat, which had slowed, now beat at a thunderous pace against his eardrums. She was still here. She had waited and still wanted him with her. He’d been prepared to walk out of the bathroom and find an empty booth, but here she stood. 

“I…” he started. He couldn’t even remember what he had been about to do. His fist unclenched and he lowered his hands. He blinked rapidly.

“Come on…let’s go home. I had the waiter box everything up.” she pleaded, her hand still outstretched to him. 

He took it hesitantly, half expecting his fingers to pass through hers and watch her disintegrate. He’d had visions before. But their flesh connected. Her skin tingled feverishly under his, and he gripped her tighter, now holding on desperately. She had thrown him a lifeline and didn’t even know it.

He felt like he was floating as she guided him out and through the restaurant. She held the bag with their boxed food and pushed the front door open. The cold air hit them hard. 

“Can you hold this?” she asked lifting the bag. 

He nodded stupidly, mouth agape as he watched her. It still didn’t make sense that she was still with him. Still dealing with his shit. He took the bag and followed behind her as she tried to hail down a taxi. One came a moment later, and they were soon speeding off back to her place. 

\--- 

He was beyond mortified. He couldn’t even look at her during the ride. They hadn’t spoken a word. She’d sat turned away from his body, staring aimlessly out at the traffic. 

As his mind settled, part of him wished she’d had just left him there. He could’ve dealt with the shame of that on his own. He’d have just compressed her rejection down and internalized it as another reason to hate the world. But she’d stayed and forced him to come back with her. She was everything he’d convinced himself didn’t exist. Kindness and patience were attributes only played up in media. People were only nice when they needed something from you. These beliefs had satisfied him for years. 

But now as he watched her slide out of the taxi and step onto the sidewalk beside him, he knew he’d been wrong. Pure souls did exist, and for the life of him, he couldn’t understand how his blackened nature had attracted one. 

She looked up at him impatiently and waited. He had been staring at her, but she needed him to use his words now. What the hell was going on? 

“If you didn’t want to go out with me…you could’ve just said it,” she blurted. During the taxi ride, her confusion had morphed into frustration. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off.

“I like you, okay?” She snapped. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I like you, and I want to be your friend, but…” She turned away and sighed. He gulped and stepped a little closer to her.

“I ate something earlier today. I think it just upset my stomach. That’s all.” He lied right through his teeth, forcing a smile as she turned back to him. 

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “You looked like you saw a ghost.” 

“Well, I was pretty spooked. You were really talking up those hauntings in Savannah.” He tried to force a convincing laugh.

She looked down, wanting to laugh too, but couldn’t.

“Here.” She took his box of pasta out of the bag and thrust it at him awkwardly. 

His eyes widened. “I don't want to leave you yet.” He stuttered stepping closer.

She shook her head and glanced away sadly. “I’m tired.” So much for all that cleaning earlier, she thought. 

“Will I still see you tomorrow?” 

She felt like an asshole. He was clearly a nice guy, but she could not ignore the alarm signals going off in her head. It scared her how easily she’d fallen for him, and now she realized how little she actually knew about him. What terrified her the most, was that deep down, she knew she didn’t care. She was drawn to him. The more he seemed to shut her out, the more compelled she was to figure him out. He was like a tightly sealed box that she was determined to pry open. It was a dangerous game. She knew it. Did she really want to know what was inside? She needed some time to think. 

“Call me tomorrow morning, and I’ll let you know if I can still make the movie.” Her tone was flat and soft. “Goodnight Travis.”

He stood in that spot for some time long after she’d brushed past him. 

Eventually sighing, he stuck his hand in his pocket and retrieved his keys. Everything had started great. She’d liked his suit. They’d had fun messing with the taxi driver from earlier. He’d found out more about her hometown. And then his stupid brain had messed everything up. 

He slammed his car door and rested his arms on top of the steering wheel, dropping his head. He wanted to cry. Maybe it would feel like a cleansing. Washing away all his unearthed dirt, all his guilt, all the trauma he refused to address. He willed himself to sob, but the floodgates never came. He only felt his head begin to ache. 

He placed the box with his food in the passenger seat and started up the taxi a moment later. He paused, contemplating just staying parked. But he sighed, knowing it would only make her more reluctant if she found out he'd stayed and camped out. He pulled out of the spot and drifted into the lonely streets, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep. 

He flicked on his sign and set out to find riders. Longing for some form of human interaction, even if it meant he’d have to clean jizz off the backseats later. He needed to feel like he actually existed. Even if that meant being the silent chauffeur, living vicariously through those privileged enough to have embraced their sins.


	6. Just Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Until he’d met someone worth the risk of losing, as long as it meant he could have them now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! My college classes resumed online this week and threw off my writing schedule. Hope you enjoy!

His first instinct was to not call her. He’d just gotten back from driving all night into the early morning, and he didn’t know if he could pile on more. His eyes ached as he blinked, dry from the lack of sleep.

After changing out of his suit from the other night, he found himself shuffling across his kitchen floor, approaching the phone on the wall. What could he say? What would she say?

It would be easier to just let the memory of her fade away. If he tried hard enough, he could convince himself that he was better off without her. For years, he’d been going through the motions, soulless. He could go back. It hadn’t been so bad to not feel. Feelings came with social obligations, and he had never liked the idea of being indebted to someone. But it was more than that. More than anything, he feared abandonment. Letting someone in, also came with allowing them to leave. To be forsaken. He couldn’t bear the thought. 

He frowned at the phone, frozen in place. She’d pick up the call, only to demand he never reach out again. The vision was clear as day in his mind. He’d save himself the heartache. Rather never know how she felt. 

He turned to go, but stopped, his thoughts wandering to the words she’d spoken the night before. She liked him. She’d admitted that. He felt himself warming to the thought, but this realization complicated things. 

The phone seemed to glare back at him. Just call her. 

He stepped closer and took the receiver in his hand, bringing it to his lips with fidgety fingers. Three rings and she answered. 

“Hello.” 

“Hi.”

“Hi, Travis.” 

“…”

“Travis?”

“So what movie do you want to see?” He rubbed at his brow aggressively and began pacing. 

It was all he could think to say. Right in line with his coping mechanism. Just carry on as if nothing happened. 

“We need to talk about last night.” Her tone was flat. 

“I told you. I ate something bad. That’s all. I didn’t want you to see my puke.” 

“I feel like you’re lying.”

Her words came soft and he felt his stomach ache with guilt. 

He stopped pacing and chewed at his nails. 

“I mean what do you want me to say?” 

She was silent for some time. 

“Listen…I like you too.” he proceeded before she could. “You make me nervous and…and excited. I get jumpy around you. I…yesterday I was just so determined to not fuck up that I think I made myself sick.” he groaned. 

There. He’d said it. While it wasn’t all the truth, he was certain in how she made him feel. That confession alarmed him more than anything. 

Her line remained quiet for a while, then her voice came low. 

“I don’t mean to make you nervous.” 

“Well, you do.” 

“Well, I guess we shouldn’t see each other anymore then.” She teased.

“No…no…that’s not what I mean.” 

“Oh.” 

“Listen…what movie do you want to see? I’ll come over now and take you out.” His desperation was clawing through his chest.

She sighed passively. “I’m not really in the mood for a movie anymore.”

“Let’s go for a walk then. I was supposed to tell you about the best places in the city last night. I don’t know many, but maybe we can find them together.” 

He closed his eyes and waited, the seconds ticked by, stretching out like elastic.

“Okay.”

He could hear a slight lift in her voice and let himself relax a bit. 

“Alright! I’ll head over now. I’ll honk when I’m outside.” 

\--- 

She’d been observing him intently as they walked. He was right. There weren’t many spots he knew of. They’d been aimlessly roaming the streets for some time, people watching and enjoying the closeness of their bodies, stopping only once at a small shop so he could buy gum. 

He’d explained rather plainly that the last couple of years, he’d experienced his hometown through glimpses from the taxi windows. Rarely getting out into the concrete jungle that he so easily maneuvered from behind the wheel. 

And before the war, he hadn’t gotten out much either. He’d always been sort of a loner. For some reason that warmed her to him more. He hadn’t gotten swept up in the pace of the city. Wasn’t wowed by the superficial atmosphere. Everyone wanted to look like they were doing something, like they were somebody, like they were important. He just wanted to survive, and she could appreciate the simplicity of that. 

But she couldn’t help but notice how far away he felt although he was right beside her. She caught his tender glances occasionally. The glint in his eyes told her he wanted her close, but his reclusive demeanor still hovered. She couldn’t read him. 

Her mind wandered to the night before, but she suppressed the thoughts, not wanting to ruin his talkative mood just yet. She smiled gently as he spoke, watching how the corners of his mouth pulled tightly and how his eyes pinched whenever he’d flash one of those shy smiles of his. His apprehension always apparent when she’d ask another question.

She avoided asking about the war, aware that was a touchy topic, but she peppered him with other generic questions, just trying to gauge who he was underneath his ever-shifting façade. 

He was convinced he’d bore her, but she found everything about him interesting. It was the most she’d heard him talk about himself and his life since they’d met. She now knew that he’d been born in Brooklyn, his parents now lived upstate, he didn’t have any siblings, and he was 26, a year older than her. These were all simple things, but they brought her joy to know. 

“Aren’t you tired of just walking. What do you want to do next? Let’s go to the movies.” He blurted after a while.

While her interest in him was flattering, he could see her list of questions narrowing, and he feared the dirt that would be drudged up if they continued. 

“No. I want you to answer more of my questions.”

He stopped abruptly and she slowed to a stop as well, turning to face him. 

“What?” She blinked up at him innocently. 

“Why you wanna know so much about me?” he scratched at his neck and forced a sheepish grin. 

“You always let me do most of the talking. I’m just trying to learn more about you.” 

“Ok,” he muttered. They started walking again. 

“So Mr. Bickle…” She started.

“Oh God” he playfully groaned.

She laughed and bumped him slightly with her hip. 

“What’s your favorite color and why?”

She knew it was a cliché question, but she was going somewhere with this. 

“Blue” he answered without hesitation. “Ocean blue. It calms me.”

“I like blue too” she mumbled and rubbed her arm. 

She was preparing herself to ask the next question. She knew it was pushy, but she had to try. They hadn’t addressed yesterday’s situation since he’d picked her up, and her curiosity had been festering. 

“I was going to ask what your least favorite color is, but I’m assuming it’s red.” She let out a forced chuckle. 

He stopped again and narrowed his eyes. She gulped as he cocked his head slightly, processing her intent. His eyes widened in disbelief, and then a tight smile pulled at his lips.

“Travis,” She started hesitantly. 

“Come with me.” He took her hand.

She bit her lip anxiously but followed. They crossed the street and he guided her into a small park, leading her to a bench where they sat. She watched and waited patiently as he stared forward, not making a sound.

He clutched his own hands together and took a couple of deep breaths. He figured she’d bring it up, but hadn’t expected it to come up so early. He had to give her credit for being that smooth. Telling her about his PTSD terrified him, but he knew he owed her a fair explanation. 

“I…” he started. His mouth had gone dry. 

He licked his lips as his hands began to tremble. She reached out and squeezed his left hand gently and took it into her lap, letting her thumb trace along his knuckles soothingly. He looked over at her and let out a pained chuckle. She was making it so easy. He didn’t feel like he deserved the courtesy. He looked away staring down at the path again. 

Gently pulling his hand from hers, he reached in his jacket pocket, revealing a small journal. It would be easier just to let her see instead of trying to explain.

His vision blurred slightly as he leafed through the pages. He knew his sudden impairment was a combination of the migraine that was coming and the tears building up. He sniffled, straightening himself out. 

He found the page he’d been looking for and laid the journal in her lap, turning away as she read: 

_*For years, I lived in the deepest pit of hell, only accompanied by other sinners and forgotten souls. It was as if the devil himself couldn't be bothered with our torture, so he left us to conjure up our own worst nightmares. Death trailed me every day, and in exchange for my own life, I did its bidding.*_

It pissed him off that he couldn’t just forget what he’d seen, that he needed to write it down like the script of some Shakespearean tragedy. It pissed him off even more that he couldn’t just say it. He felt ridiculous. Here he was passing his journal like it was a “will you be my girlfriend” note in class. But he'd always been better at writing out his feelings than verbally communicating them. 

His entire state of mind reduced to a couple of flimsy pages. Filled with words he’d never shared until now. Until he’d met someone worth the risk of losing, as long as it meant he could have them now. 

“Travis.” Bridgette closed the journal slowly. 

“I..I saw so much in Vietnam. I can't get the images out of my mind.” his voice was shaky as he continued.

She moved closer, now rubbing up and down his arm. The sensation made him shiver, and he felt his pants tighten. He cursed himself internally, embarrassed by his body's reaction to years of touch starvation. She didn't seem to notice, and he calmed himself, taking a hollow breath. 

“Red liquids…red paint...I sometimes see blood." He whispered. 

There was silence as he let the words simmer in the air. He closed his eyes shut and waited. After a while, he felt her lean into him, resting her head on his shoulder. His eyes blinked open as he peered down at her. 

“I understand." She whispered. “I wish you would've told me then. I would’ve had them take it away, but I understand.”

She squeezed his bicep gently and dropped her hands to grip the journal. She handed it back to him and watched sadly as he tucked it away. His words were striking. 

That small passage carried so much weight. She admired him for his vulnerability but resented the fact that he’d even been subjected to such violence, and forced to react with violence in order to survive.

All the things he’d seen and experienced. God, it wasn’t fair. Imagining the guilt and trauma he woke with every day was too much to bear. She didn’t know what she could do or say to make it right. It never would be. She wasn’t arrogant enough to think that she alone could erase all the pain, or make him completely happy. But she desperately wanted him to know that he deserved the effort. 

His arm began to move and she sat up to face him, blinking back tears so he wouldn’t see. His arm snaked around her waist, and she smiled warmly as he pulled her closer. 

“I thought you wouldn’t want to see me anymore if you knew.” He rested his chin on top of her head as he murmured.

“I was scared you’d hate me. I’ve hurt people…my heads messed up sometimes.” 

“Travis…I…I know I can’t say anything that will take away what you experienced, but I want you to know that I don’t hate you because of what you’ve seen or done. I don’t blame you for the war."

She paused. Words just weren't enough, but they would have to do.

"You’re a good man. You’ve protected me and made me feel safe. Whatever you think you are, you’re not.” 

“But I’ve-”

“You’re here now, just trying to make a living. You can’t change the past, but you can be present in today. Who you want to be in the future is all that matters.” She cut him off.

He blinked several times taking her in. He’d read something similar on a brochure when he’d tried to get help a long time ago. He remembered sneering and crumbling the paper. It had sounded like bullshit. But for a brief moment, hearing those words come from her lips made him feel hopeful. 

Her long eyelashes fluttered as she looked back up at him. He felt lightheaded and airy as his body moved forward, instinctively leaning his forehead against hers. Was he being too forward? He worried. 

This wasn’t like him at all. To be so intimate and allow himself to unravel. He’d only spoken to his parents over the phone on holidays for the last three years, and he’d closed off most connections in the city. Convinced he didn’t need friends, and that they didn’t need him. Time abroad had shown him that humanity was violent no matter how hard gurus, celebrities, or religious leaders tried to preach about benevolence and togetherness.

People were cruel. But oftentimes he felt downright savage. It was best for everyone that he removed himself. 

But she would not allow him to sit and stew in that mentality. She represented all the contradictions in his view on life. They were polar opposites and because of that, he could not pull away. She made him feel less volatile, more human. More worthy of love.

She was still watching him with those hazel eyes. A determined look on her face, seeming to promise that everything would be alright. He wasn’t so sure of that, but he’d allow himself a moment to give in to the illusion. 

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered.

His breath airy and ticklish against her skin. She quirked a smile and nodded against him. 

Soft, callused fingers found their way to her jaw, and she shivered as he tilted her head back slightly. She held her breath until his lips made contact with hers, then let her eyes close. It was a slow progression at first. Neither wanting to be the aggressor, although they’d been hungry for each other since the first night. His other hand moved down to grip the back of her neck as he brought her closer. Held her tighter. His lips worked tirelessly, catching the corners of her mouth and her chin occasionally. 

She giggled softly as she tried to match his rhythm. His pace was needier and more frantic, but she slowed him by gripping his chin gently. He groaned softly and brought a hand to her hip, pushing his tongue gently into her mouth. She could feel her breath quickening as he explored, her own need growing more urgent and heavier. 

Placing a soft touch on his chest, she pulled back a bit, their lips still brushing against each other. She smiled and stroked delicate fingers along his cheek. His pale skin was flushed and his eyelids sat heavy. He wore a dopey grin. 

She tasted mint on her tongue and smirked, reaching for his pocket. He watched her lazily. Her fingers gripped the small pack of gum he’d bought earlier, and she pulled it out to check the flavor. Mint.

“Did you buy these with intention?” She narrowed her eyes, playfully shaking the pack at him.

“Maybe.” He mumbled stroking her arms. She laughed and leaned forward, nuzzling her face into the soft fabric of his jacket. He took the gum from her and popped another stick into his mouth. 

“I’ve got plenty more if you want to keep exploring this flavor.” He smirked down at her. 

She rolled her eyes and pecked his lips again. 

It felt good to finally have him like this. The air cleared between them, and their feelings made known. 

He squeezed his arms around her gently as if to emphasize her thoughts and she rested her head on his chest again. 

\---

They’d made their way back to her apartment, stealing flirtatious glances at each other while walking hand in hand. They now stood in front of Travis’ taxi. He knew it would be best for him to head back out and work, but he didn’t want to go, not ready to leave her warmth just yet. 

“When will I see you again?” he pulled her closer gently into him as he leaned back against the passenger door. 

She giggled nuzzling into him and let out a blissful sigh, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“When do you want to see me again? 

“Tonight.” 

She threw her head back and laughed a little. “I thought you had to work?” 

“Yeah…but that can wait” He grinned sheepishly. 

“How about tomorrow? I’ll cook for you” 

All previous worry about him coming over faded into the back of her mind. She just wanted to spoil him and make him feel appreciated.

He leaned back a little to look at her with a better scope. “I’d like that, but I don’t want you going out of your way to buy a whole bunch of groceries,” he said.

“It’ll be fine” she giggled. 

He regarded her skeptically as he pulled back a bit more, his subconscious self-sabotage creeping back in. The bliss of their time at the park fading away as anxiety began to reclaim his mind.

She’d been understanding enough to accept his confession earlier, but it wasn’t just blood he saw. He lived daily with the threat of succumbing to his dark impulses. His mood, ever-evolving. She didn't fully understand what she was getting into. There were two things he’d come to master since his return from war. Driving taxis and driving people away.

Being welcomed into her home and sharing a home cooked meal, sounded amazing, but he was already imagining all the ways the situation could go awry. He'd not experience something so intimate in a long time. Of course, he'd dated on and off in the past, but nothing ever serious developed. They were flings, here and there.

But this, what he had with Bridgette, was something he did not want to fumble. He couldn't afford to have an episode in her home. Sometimes he'd become a shell of himself, and other times he'd resort to violence. 

The idea of hurting her because he hadn’t gotten his shit together? It haunted him. He rubbed his eyebrow and sighed.

She stared at him and slowly let go of her embrace, reading his change in spirit.

“We don’t have to…” she started apprehensively.

“No…it’s fine. It’ll be fine.”

He forced a small smile and tugged gently on one of her curls.

It was going to be fine. He would make sure of it.


	7. Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But he didn’t want their sympathy. He wanted their trust, their respect. More than anything, he wanted to believe that someone else had the confidence in him to do the right thing because he felt he’d never be able to extend the courtesy to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Bridgette in this chapter, but I hope you enjoy!

He hadn’t been back to the station since the day he was fired, but he strolled in now as if he owned the place. 

His boss had been a pesky, inconsiderate fucker, and he’d been rather satisfied knowing he wouldn’t have to his take orders anymore. Avoiding him, he ducked back into one of the side rooms out of view. 

A group of off-duty drivers sat on crates around a fold-out table, playing a game of cards. As he neared, he cleared his throat and stuck his hands into his pockets awkwardly. Fitting in with this group had never been easy. 

The game came to a halt as the men turned to look at him. 

“Trav, my man. How’s it going?” Charlie grinned up at him. 

Travis gave him a closed-mouth smile and a nod of his head. He didn’t have anything against Charlie, but he didn’t necessarily like him either. He was all too aware of the sly remarks he’d made in the past about his aloofness. 

“Good. How’s it going with you fellas?”

He didn’t give a fuck, but he knew he had to get through the formalities. 

They all grunted their gripes of the day as Travis eyed Wizard. That was who he’d come to see. Wizard nodded at him, seeming to get the hint and stood from the table.

“Go ahead and add my cards to the deck guys. I’ll be back.”

Wizard patted Travis on the back before heading out one of the side doors into a smaller room where the drivers stored their items in cubbies. It had a glass window, so their conversation could be seen, but not heard. It would do. Travis followed. 

He liked Wizard. He’d been the only driver that had seemed genuine, taking him under his wing early on. He’d been patient. Kind even. 

When Travis had started driving taxis, it had been a last resort. Three months after return and he was still restless, so he’d found something to do, something to keep his mind out of the gutter. 

He hadn’t made the best effort to socialize with the others when he’d started, but Wizard had come along and kind of nudged him into the group, forcing him to interact, and always inviting him out with the other guys. Travis never went, but he appreciated the gesture.

He admitted his urges to him one night outside of a diner on break. He couldn’t even remember all that he’d said. Rambled on about doing something really bad and having dark thoughts. Sam had tried to calm him, but he spoke a foreign language called rationality. 

He had a family. A wife and kids he took care of. He was level headed, sensible, cool. Travis admired him through an envy stained lens. 

“What can I do for you pal?” Wizard turned to him once they were far enough inside. 

Cutting straight to the chase, Travis spoke in a hushed tone “I need you to get me back in contact with that Andy guy. You know, the one who sold me those prescriptions when I couldn't sleep? 

Wizard cocked his head slightly. “Still got insomnia?”

“Yeah…but this is for something else,” Travis mumbled. 

“Look man…I’m worried about you. Jeff’s been talking about calling the police on you for stealing money a couple of weeks ago. What’s that about?” 

“I didn’t steal no money. I paid what the meter said I owed.” 

Wizard sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Trav. How do you feel? Are you having any more of those bad thoughts?” 

Travis narrowed his eyes and felt his hands close involuntarily into fists. He didn’t need the lecture. 

“Can you get me in contact with Andy or not, Wiz?” 

Wizard just watched him for a moment then looked down, shrugging reluctantly.

“I can set something up. You come by the diner tonight, he’ll be there.” He glanced back up regarding his friend hesitantly. “What do you need? So I know what to tell him to bring.” 

“I need something for anxiety. Something that’ll calm me down. I don’t even want to feel like myself.” Travis murmured. 

“Trav, that doesn’t sound too good. What are you planning?” 

Travis held up his hand and smiled sheepishly. “It’s a woman. Alright? Calm down. I’m not planning to do anything crazy.”

Wizard chuckled a little bit. “Don’t you think you need something else for that? There’s viagra .”

Travis could feel himself turning red as he shuffled in place.

“No, it’s not like that. I just don’t want to keep coming undone around her. She’s cool man. She’s great. She understands a bit about my stress…why I am the way I am.” 

He swayed a little, looking to the side and avoiding eye contact. “But, I’m going to her place tomorrow night, and I…I just don’t want to make her uncomfortable anymore. I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t want to hurt her.” He paused. “So I’m just taking precaution.” 

His last words came out defiant. 

Wizard reached forward and clapped his shoulder. “I’m glad to hear you’re getting back out there man.” His smile was sad. “But…I don’t know if getting drugged up before going to her place will help. You’re not gonna know how your body reacts to the medication. They’re prescriptions for a reason. Someone’s supposed to decide what’s best for you. Andy’s a fucking fraud. You don’t know what illegal shit he’ll give you.” 

“Where the fuck am I gonna find someone to prescribe them the legal way, huh?” 

“Go to one of those mental doctors man. I don’t know. They prescribe that shit right?”

“I don’t got no fucking money, Wiz. And I don’t have the fucking time. Those motherfuckers will take one look at me and tell me to go meditate” he spat the words, his voice rising above the hushed toned he’d been maintaining. His eyes burned. 

“You think they give a shit about people like me? I tried once. There is no cure. There’s only suppression. And if I can suppress this bullshit so I can function like a normal fucking person for a couple of hours, then that’s what I’m gonna do.” He cocked his head slightly, glaring hard at Wizard. 

“Now what time should I be there tonight?” 

Wizard spoke softly after a brief pause. “7.” 

Travis nodded and walked past him back out of the door. He passed by the card game again. The other guys gave him a couple of waves and tried to engage in more small talk, but he’d blanked, only hearing their voices as muffled background noise to the hammering that had started in his skull. 

He crossed through the room, back towards the front office and stopped in front of the first door. His head pounded as he peered in. Jeff, his old manager, sat there with his feet propped up on the desk smoking a cigarette. He’d come in intending to avoid him, but he needed to let off some fucking steam. He knocked once then entered without waiting for an invitation.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Jeff was alert as he pulled his legs off the desk. 

Jeff had always been kind of jumpy around him, always a little afraid. Travis liked it like that. He’d never really responded to his snide remarks or verbal abuse. He’d just give him a heavy stare and smile tightly. It got the job done because Jeff had started steering clear of him towards the end of his time with the company.

“Heard you’re talkin’ bout having me arrested?” Travis stood in front of his desk with his hands behind his back, that tight smile stretched across his face. 

“Yeah? And what about it? You stuck me the other night. It should’ve been way more than that and you know it. I don’t know how the fuck you did it, but you tampered with that fucking meter.” Jeff pointed a shaky finger but watched his tone. 

“I told you about the woman. She needed help.” His voice, gentle. His delivery, rigid.

“Yeah right. Some sloppy whore stumbled into your cab and you decided to clock out early to get busy in the backseat. Save the crap.” Jeff spat, his little confidence starting to bubble up. He puffed out his chest slightly and crossed his arms. 

Travis lunged at him in a flash and gripped the front of his shirt, dragging him across the desk. 

“Watch your fucking mouth about her,” He snarled. 

Jeff pulled at his hands desperately, trying to pry his fingers from the fabric. Travis just jerked him rougher, ringing his shirt collar even tighter around his neck. Jeff’s eyes bulged slightly and he gasped for air as he continued clawing. Travis shook him one last time and shoved him roughly back across the table and into his seat.

"Still thinking about calling the cops?” 

Jeff heaved and shook his head frantically as he massaged his neck. Travis smiled at him warmly for the first time and shook out his arms a little, loosening up his sleeves before walking out of the office. He was speeding out of the station in his taxi minutes later. 

\--- 

He pulled on the diner door and entered, glancing around for Wizard and Andy. He didn’t see them, so he took a seat at a booth in a corner. 

Through bloodshot eyes, he scanned the place. Over 24 hours without sleep. He’d spent the morning with Bridgette making up for the fiasco from the night before. Then he’d gone to the station, immediately hitting the streets again after. Now he was here. A waiter came by and he ordered a coffee.

This was the spot where most of the cabbies would take their breaks in the middle of the night. He’d spent plenty of time here. It was a decent establishment, but the freaks liked to frequent the place too, and they were making their usual rounds that night.

Travis tended to just mind his business and stay to himself, but something about the nightcrawlers stirred him up. The haphazard structure of New York society after dark could drive anyone mad. People just seemed to give less of a fuck the later it got. They were more crude, rude, selfish. More violent. It was part of the reason he’d taken up driving. The scene spoke to him. He saw himself reflected in so many of the lost souls he encountered at night. Unable to look away from the mirror, he’d considered just shattering the glass many times before.

He watched other patrons as he waited. There was a pimp he’d driven around a couple times, snuggled up to one of his prostitutes at the bar. He sighed and rubbed his eyes. Must be break time for them too. A few tables down, a junky was slumped down in his seat, eyes glazed staring at nothing. The way his soiled sleeves were rolled up sloppily, told his story. 

The waiter appeared with the coffee, and Travis took a couple of sips. He planned on being up the rest of the night. No telling where Andy was going to take him. 

The front door swung open a moment later, and Wizard walked in, followed by the sketchy salesman himself. 

Andy was a scrawny, fast-talking scammer. Travis knew it. Everyone knew it. But he sold stuff you couldn’t just buy anywhere, so he was allowed to swim in a lot of circles. Wizard noticed Travis and gave a little wave. They approached and sat. 

“Hey man.” Andy slid into the seat and pulled his large briefcase into his lap. He looked like a kid playing dress-up as an adult. 

Travis regarded him passively and nodded, sliding the cup of coffee out of the way. 

“So I heard you want to buy some prescriptions.” Andy leaned forward with a low voice. He was all too giddy. Travis just blinked at him for a moment.

“Yeah.”

“Alright cool, cool. Wizard’s going to drive us over to this spot in a bit. I can’t pull out all my stuff here.” He chuckled and scratched his face roughly. He was clearly on some shit. Probably using from his own supply. 

Travis pulled out some cash to pay for the coffee and stood. 

“Let’s go.”

\--- 

It was a seedy motel room. Not the run-down apartment Andy had sold him the insomnia medication in months ago, but just as bad. The air was stale, and the walls were peeling. He just wanted to get his stuff and go.

Andy popped open the briefcase on the bed and started sifting through the second hand and boosted items, reaching into a flap to retrieve a bottle of pills.

“Here it is. This right here. These pills will leave you floating. No stress, nothin'.” He gave the bottle a rattle and handed it to Travis.

He rotated the bottle in his hand, watching the small pills slide from side to side. They were an array of sizes and colors. The prescription read something he couldn’t pronounce. _Fluvoxamine 50 mg._

“How do you know this stuff is prescription? Those could be fucking pieces of candy for all we know.” Wizard piped up. He’d been leaning against the wall in the corner, observing the exchange skeptically. 

Travis shot him a look but nodded slightly to himself. He didn’t want to be just sticking anything in his body. He could risk ending up like that junky at the diner. 

“Where’d you get it?”

“I know a pharmaceutical tech. She sneaks me the shit that customers never pick up. I mixed a couple of pills in there for you. She called them SIR…or… SSRIs, something like that.” He stammered defensively. 

Whenever Andy stammered, it meant he didn’t know shit about what he was selling. He just wanted you to buy it. Travis’ eyes narrowed. 

“What’s an SSRI?” 

“Medication for your brain man. It’s what you asked for.” 

“Why’d you mix ‘em up?” 

“Give you some variety. You can figure out which ones work best. Test ‘em out. The flat tan ones I’ve used before. But you might like the little white circled ones or the pink ones. Whatever floats your boat man.” 

Travis peered in the bottle shaking it a bit. He didn’t have much schooling, but he had enough common sense to know that mixing unprescribed medications was a dangerous road to travel. He scratched at his jaw, pondering the distance he was willing to travel up this road. 

“I don’t think that’s smart. Don’t get them, Travis. It’s too risky. You don’t know how your body will react.” Wizard had pushed himself off the wall and was standing beside him now. 

Andy twitched nervously, his eyes darting between the two men. 

Wizard was right. Travis didn’t know how his body would react to the medication, but the thing was, he never knew how his body would react. His mind had already betrayed him. What harm could a few small pills do?

“How much?” 

Andy let out a little yelp and clapped. “For you my friend, just $20.”

“Travis...don’t.” Wizard started, but Travis shooed him off as he switched out the bottle with a wad of cash in his pocket. He stuck a $20 out at Andy who snatched it immediately. 

“Alright let’s go.” He turned for the door.

“Wait, wait,” Andy called. 

Travis sighed, turning slowly.

“Have you ever thought about carrying? You know having a gun on you might help calm some of those nerves too.” Andy had pulled out a small pistol from his briefcase and was waving it around theatrically. 

Travis had purposely avoided holding a gun for years. The sight of them wasn’t one of his triggers, but he’d been cautious of getting too close. Of all the ways to regress, he imagined the resistant feel of a trigger being the spark to send him spiraling the quickest. But staring at the pistol now, he felt an itch at the tips of his fingers, a primal urge. 

“Come on man. Put that away.” Wizard waved Andy off with irritation, but Travis stepped forward.

He took the pistol from Andy’s hand gingerly, letting his fingers trace across the metal, taking in the weighty compact build. His eyes scanned the weapon, recalling the satisfying feel of a gun. 

He took a deep breath and let his finger find the trigger. Nothing. No electric shock surged through his body as he’d expected. His finger gripped around the trigger gently. The fit felt perfect. Snug. Like neighboring pieces on a puzzle.

“Travis. Come on man. You don’t need that.” Wizard spoke softly. 

He lifted the gun slowly and pointed it at the opposite wall, closing an eye, using muscle memory to train his aim. 

“Everyone’s carrying now. Sickos are walking around everywhere. They’ll stumble into your taxi, and what can you do? Shake that new bottle of pills at them? No, you whip this out, and they’ll never fuck with you again. And it comes loaded.” Andy was talking a mile a minute, and Travis hadn’t caught a single word, his inhibitions starting to slow.

He brought his trained arm around toward Andy, locking the pistol's aim right on his forehead.

“Travis.” Wizard’s voice was fading.

“You like it don’t you? I’ll give it to you for $70. Come on. I know you want it. It’s already got 6 rounds in it” Andy was so hyper for cash, he wasn’t even processing the immediate danger he was in. 

Wizard brought his hand up to grip Travis’ wrist and lowered his arm slowly. He stared at him with an expression that immediately brought Travis back from wherever he had gone. His eyes flickered with guilt, but he’d made up his mind. 

“You said $70?” He reached in his pocket with the other hand retrieving the wad of cash. 

Andy nodded giddily, wearing a Cheshire grin

Travis pulled out exact cash and threw the bills on the mattress. 

“I’m telling you, this is a great purchase.” Andy stammered as he snatched up the money and started repacking his briefcase. 

Travis checked the safety and stuffed the gun in his pocket.

“Alright let’s go.” 

\---

Wizard neared the curb to pull up behind Travis’ taxi. They’d left Andy back at the motel to return to the diner. 

“Wanna grab something to eat?” He sighed putting the vehicle in park.

Travis mumbled something, shaking his head “no”.

Wizard stared at him for a moment.

“Don’t do anything crazy with that thing.”

Travis shrugged off his concern and pushed his door open.

“I’m serious man. You had that look in your eyes. I don’t like this. I shouldn’t have brought Andy to you.” Wizard shook his head roughly, cursing under his breath. 

“I’m fine. Thanks for driving.” Travis leaned down outside the taxi to get a good look at his friend before giving the hood a light pat and walking away.

He found sick humor in Wizard’s concern. Besides Bridgette, he was the only other person who seemed to have any real sympathy for him. 

But he didn’t want their sympathy. He wanted their trust, their respect. More than anything, he wanted to believe that someone else had the confidence in him to do the right thing because he felt he’d never be able to extend the courtesy to himself. 

The gun swayed in his pocket, hitting his side roughly as he strolled up to his taxi. He hopped in and quickly stuck it in the glove compartment, suddenly wanting it far away from him. 

Confusion burned in his mind as to why he’d bought it in the first place. He sat there for a moment trying to convince himself that it was for protection. But protection from what? Others or himself? He sighed heavily gripping the pill bottle tightly in his pocket. 

The meter on the sidewalk told him he still had a couple of minutes to spare, so he continued sitting there for a while, people watching. 

His eyes became trained on a couple that was approaching, hand in hand. They stuck out amongst the crowd of sleazier pedestrians. Contentment was clear on their faces. They were oblivious to the hell around them. 

That was security. A form of protection even a gun couldn't provide. Having someone who made living less laborious and the thought of death less comforting. Someone who held you accountable in the midst of all the external bullshit, unwilling to let you slide through the cracks of the inferno. A partner who's very existence made your own make sense. Bridgette was that for him. But he wanted to be that for her too. It had to be an even exchange. It was only fair. 

He smiled softly and tipped his head to the couple as they neared, the thought of her, automatically improving his mood. They smiled back and slowed.

“You on duty?” The guy leaned down to his window

“Yeah.”

\---

As he drove, he observed them curiously through the rearview mirror. The small touches they shared, the shy glances. They communicated without words, an unspoken allegiance between them. It was all so familiar. 

He tore his gaze from them briefly to glance at himself in the mirror, his eyes lingering on themselves.

For once, not so quick to look away from the reflection he saw.


	8. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together though, they could grow to be more whole if they learned how to give and take in a balance. It wasn’t that they would simply complete each other and fill some void. No, she hoped that they could constantly introduce each other to knew ideas that would help them evolve as they grew together. That is, if that’s what he wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been gone for a minute. This pandemic and my classes really threw me off my writing schedule, but I'm feeling more inspired as of late. I hope to wrap this story up soon with a nice ribbon and bow!

It was pouring down outside when Bridgette peeked through the blinds. She smiled softly watching the droplets bounce off her window, admiring the calming gray hue that now covered the city. Rain was rejuvenating, relaxing, and simply an excuse to just slow down. The city itself seemed to be subdued, and with this came the soothing of her own nerves.

She walked back to the kitchen to check the meal cooking in the oven. Maple roasted chicken breasts with sides of sweet potatoes and asparagus. The timer indicated that it only needed a couple more minutes.

She traveled to lounge on her couch while she waited for Travis to arrive. He'd been instructed to dress comfortably. She herself wore a t-shirt and sweats, and had her hair wrapped up in a high puff bun. There was nothing to stress out about, just a nice casual dinner. He deserved to just relax without any pressures to live up to something she didn’t even want him to be. He alone was enough.

She giggled to herself thinking about their kiss the other day, blushing and covering her eyes as if he was there watching her at the moment. Touch starved would be an understatement. No one had ever touched her like that, let alone kiss her so passionately. It had been an awakening, to say the least, and it made her giddily nervous to see him again, to see how her body would respond to him.

Sighing blissfully, she stretched out further on the couch eying the vase with the bouquet he’d given her and then focused her gaze on the candle burning on her coffee table.

Soft raps at the door brought her out of the trance minutes later. She stood quickly, smoothing down her t-shirt and walked briskly to the door. She peeked through the hole and swung it open with a bashful grin. Travis stood there smiling back at her shyly as well.

“Hey.” He smiled softly.

“Hey.”

They eyed each other for a couple of moments and then he leaned forward biting his lip.

“Come on in.” She blurted, stepping out of his way just in time to avoid his lips. Those damn nerves were clawing out of her again.

He stumbled forward slightly and frowned to himself as she shut the door behind them.

“Smells good.” He mentioned as he scratched the back of his head. She came around to face him again and he studied her for a moment, searching for a sign. Had he done something to make her uncomfortable? Or worse…had she had enough time to sit and think about how volatile he probably was? Was she about to cut him off?

But the look she wore as she gazed up at him, read nothing short of fondness. He furrowed his brow slightly but dared not press the issue just yet.

“Thank you.” She laughed and stepped back, noticing the bottle of wine he’d brought. “I told you not to bring anything.”

“Did you?” he quirked a brow and thrust it at her. She took it, feigning annoyance, and stepped into her kitchen. They were back to their normal banter. He let out a loose breath as she uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses.

He observed the place in a quick glance. It was small unit but well furnished and nicely decorated. A living room extended beyond the kitchen and there were two doors to the left clearly leading to a bedroom and bathroom. Her aesthetic was pretty minimalist with accents of browns and oranges here and there. One thing that he noted immediately, was the various plants she had around, all well pruned and healthy. Something about that made him smile.

She exited the small kitchen and nodded for him to follow her to the couch. As they got comfortable he watched her, so in awe that he was with her again. She patted her hair a couple of times and smoothed out her t-shirt all while avoiding eye-contact with him before taking a sip of her wine.

“You’re nervous.” He stated softly, as the realization set in. God, she had no idea how much he was too.

“What? No.” she forced a giggle but still couldn’t look at him.

He smiled softly and moved closer. “Is it me? Do I make you nervous? Or is it something else?”

She frowned. “I just told you I’m not nervous.”

He cocked a brow and tsked his teeth before leaning back to look at her. “You’re trembling.”

She finally brought her eyes to meet his, and sighed, shrugging slightly.

“It’s okay. I am too.” He assured and tentatively reached for her hand, not wanting to alarm her.

She placed her delicate palm into his and watched as he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “Do you…do you want me to leave?”

“No!” She interjected.

He cracked a grin and she couldn’t help but chuckle. “No…I want you here. I’m happy you’re here. I just…I’ve never had anyone over. Like ever. Even back home in Atlanta. I’m new to dating.” She admitted. “Or whatever this is.” She quickly added, not wanting to scare him off by putting a title on anything just yet.

He could feel his pulse picking up. So he was the first. Did this mean? Oh god…his eyes did a quick survey of her petite body sitting across from him. He controlled his breathing and nodded at her, understanding her anxiety. The thought of being the first anything for her…it made him want to do this right even more so than before. He’d go as slow as she needed, be as patient as possible. He had to.

“I guess I just want to make sure everything looked nice, and that you’re comfortable.”

“I am.” He assured squeezing her hand gently. “Just being around you makes me comfortable. I want you to feel the…the same…about me.”

Flashing him a sweet smile, she leaned in slowly and moved her arms around his neck, pulling his lips to hers. He let an arm move around her pulling her closer and groaned slightly as she moved her fingers through his hair. He had to fight the urge to hoist her up into his lap, taking great care not to be too forward, but God, he wanted her badly.

She smiled against his lips. “I do.”

He couldn’t resist, and dove back in, nipping at her bottom lip slowly. She brought both hands up to the side of his face, but not to push him away, to hold him closer and steady as she kissed him back. His own hands were shaky as he lifted them, brushing the bottom of her shirt. He pulled back slightly.

“Is it okay? He murmured nodding down. “If I touch you? Not like grope you, just touch you?”

Her cheeks burned a fiery pink shade but she nodded, and he slowly slipped his fingers under her shirt, never trailing past her belly button or below her hips. He just wanted to feel her, know she was real and whole before him. His spells of illusion had been few and far between in the last couple of years, but he still didn’t trust himself. What if he’d been imagining her all this time?

But there she was, warm and soft beneath his touch, delicate against his lips and his heart thrummed harder. She was here with him. She had chosen him. The confirmation alone was enough for him to die a happy man.

Then the pill bottle in his jacket pocket rattled and he pulled back abruptly, as his anxiety spiked. He didn’t want her to know how low he'd been the day before. What would she think of the type of comfort he’d sought out? He cursed himself internally as she gazed at him in confusion. Had she heard that?

“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” she stroked his jaw.

Whew. Good, she hadn’t. But now he’d made her think she was the one who’d fucked up. He smiled softly and mirrored her touch.

“No…no. I just didn’t want to go overboard.” He chuckled.

Smiley sheepishly, she stood and reached out her hands for him. “Thank you for being gentle with me, but I'll always tell you if something doesn't feel right. Now let’s eat.”

\---

“I- I can’t. Don’t know how to.” Travis chuckled.

Bridgette was pulling him to his feet after turning on her record player. “Come on. Please!”

After dinner, they’d gotten comfortable on the couch and talked for a couple of hours until she put on a record. He’d discarded his jacket on her coat hanger a while ago and was feeling lighter, and more inclined to make a fool out of himself.

Night Fever by the Beegees was oozing out of the speakers. A soft glow from a few of her lamps lit the room in an orange haze, and the wine had done its job, adding to the mood as they both stumbled around goofily in circles, trying to find the rhythm of the song.

Travis hadn’t danced in years. He liked to watch people dance, but to find that kind of synchronization within his own body? He couldn’t imagine. But it was an excuse now to hold her and be near, so he’d suffer through the embarrassment for the payoff.

She guided him around her small living room, letting her arms hang loosely over his shoulders. His focus remained mostly on his own feet, desperately trying to keep them in time as she swayed her hips. He smiled down at her as she mumbled along to the lyrics, the sensation of her warm breaths against his neck making him almost completely forget the rhythm.

Physical contact. He’d never been too fond of on it, always a bit standoffish. But he craved the feel of her, the weight of her in his arms. She was whole. He was whole. This moment was real.

He snaked his arms tighter around her frame as she leaned further into him, now resting her head on his shoulder and smiling as she hummed.

It felt good to be held, to be secured against someone else. Life, in general, was an unstable experience, but her relocation in New York had emphasized how vulnerable she felt at times.

She’d taken a gamble moving to the big city alone, and the transition had been more than rocky. Just having company like this was a reminder that she wasn’t alone, that she was deserving of support. It wasn’t that she was looking to dump her troubles on Travis. He had enough on his own, but something was grounding about him. He might not see it himself, but he had a calming demeanor. That’s what she found most attractive about him. He made her feel safe, protected.

Of course, she couldn’t assume that he was like this all the time, but with her, he at least seemed observant rather than reactionary. The incident in the restaurant was understandable, and now knowing all he’d seen and experienced, it made his typical attitude even more commendable. However, something about it all still bothered her.

She smiled sadly, moving to tangle her fingers through one of his hands as he shuffled awkwardly, now taking the lead of the dance as the music bled into a slower melody.

Because that was the thing. Having to always appear calm and collected when your internal monologue was screaming at you that you were an imposter was not a burden anyone should have to cary. She could relate to that.

Bonding in misery was not something she was seeking, but the realization that they both shared a mutual sense of isolation made Travis feel more solid against her as he spun her around.

Together though, they could grow to be more whole if they learned how to give and take in a balance. It wasn’t that they would simply complete each other and fill some void. No, she hoped that they could constantly introduce each other to knew ideas that would help them evolve as they grew together. That is, if that’s what he wanted.

Her cheeks burned slightly and she tucked her face against his chest, trying to hide her embarrassment. She always got ahead of herself like this. This was only the first date. The wine had really taken off.

As if he'd heard her thoughts and need for confirmation, Travis began humming softly and attempted to dip her. She giggled, bringing a hand to cover her mouth as he grunted, realizing that his footing was completely off.

“I’m trying.” He chuckled, pulling her back into his chest and brought up a hand to cup her head, encouraging her to nuzzle into his neck.

“I can see. You’re doing good.”

Her words vibrated against his skin and he smiled gently. This…this was what he’d needed, not Andy’s stupid drugs. He’d needed validation, and Bridgette gave it so willingly. Her approval was in her smile, in the way she touched him with delicate hands, the way she giggled at his attempts. She saw him as just what he was, a man, not a soldier, not a fuck up, but a man who was just as vulnerable as she.

And he wanted to assure her just as much, to sing praises to her beauty, to her intelligence, to her kindness, and patience. All these things made her the most gorgeous woman he’d ever known. He needed to tell her all the ways he wanted to do right by her.

“Bridgette…” He murmured, his cheek now resting against her forehead.

There was no immediate response.

“Hey…” he pulled back slightly to peer down at her, finding her eyes fluttered shut, and her lips slightly pouted as she snored softly.

A warmth threatened to set his chest ablaze as he stared at her, his mouth agape. She’d fallen asleep against him standing up as he’d rocked her. Moving carefully, he glided her back and plopped down on the sofa. She let out a little puff of air but otherwise didn’t stir.

He glanced over his shoulder at the clock in her kitchen, noting that it had gotten pretty late. He sighed, not wanting to leave her just yet, but also not wanting to be a creep that just stayed and watched her sleep.

He raised a hand, letting his fingers brush gently against the loose curls in her bun.

“Bridgette?”

“Mhm?”

He let out a breathy chuckle as her face scrunched up slightly. “I think I should head out, but I don’t want to just leave you here on the couch. Do you want me to help you to your room?” He pulled gently on one of the curls, watching it bounce back into a soft coil.

“Here.” She mumbled and shifted. “I…here…I’m good here.”

He rubbed his hand up and down her arm and reached behind to pull a blanket off the back of the sofa before snuggling her in. Then he moved to stand up, but she gripped him suddenly, her eyes opening slightly.

“Stay.”

Even half-conscious, a blush peppered its way across her skin, but it was no match for his. He’d turned beat red.

“You…you want me to stay?”

She yawned slightly and nuzzled into him further. “Only if you want…I understand if you need to go, but just…if you wanted to crash here because it’s so late, I’m fine.”

He held his breath and glanced back at the clock. 2 AM. Time had really flown. Those hours talking and dancing had been pure bliss. Seeking to hold on to some of that feeling a bit longer, he decided he’d stay.

“Alright.”

He was met with silence again. He glanced down at her in his arms, seeing she had drifted off again and just smiled.

Being careful not to wake her, he leaned forward and blew out the candle on the coffee table and then shifted them both so that they were laid out across the sofa in a spooning position.

He pulled the blanket back a bit to cover himself, and kept one arm protectively across her hip, just in case she rolled forward. Her bun tickled his nose slightly, but he didn’t dare move again.

Eventually, their snores fell in sync, as the rain continued to patter against the window.

\---

Bridgette’s eyes fluttered open the next morning. A weight was settled over her hip and something was tickling her ear. She looked down the length of her body as she yawned. Travis’ arm was rested over her. She stirred slightly trying not to wake him, but his breathing hitched a bit. Ah, there was the source of that ticklish sensation on her ear. She smiled to herself as his grip tightened gently. He groaned deeply as he stretched.

“Good morning” she giggled, placing her hand on top of his. He murmured something inaudible in her ear as he lifted his fingers to lace with hers.

“Sorry about last night,” she mumbled. Visions of her drunken state flashed in her brain, and she closed her eyes. It was embarrassing to think about how she’d fallen asleep so easily.

“No…it was fine. I had fun. You were fun.”

“I was a mess.”

He sat up slightly on his elbow to look down at her, blinking sleep out of his eyes. “You were great,” he assured and brought a finger up to run along her jaw. She shivered slightly and nuzzled back into him further.

He let his finger continue to trace along her neck and down to her shoulder. He paused for a second trying to gauge her body language. When he noticed a shy smirk play across her lips, he then slipped a finger under the collar of her shirt, pulling it down to expose her bare shoulder. He paused again, and this time she fidgeted restlessly against him.

“Go on.” she giggled.

He grinned and brought a soft kiss to her shoulder and slowly peppered a couple up the side of her neck, and then he reached and caressed the right side of her cheek, turning her face up to him slightly. She stared up at him hazily, her full lips slightly parted in anticipation. He smiled softly as his eyes pinched.

“What?” she whispered.

“Nothing…I can’t just look at you?” He chuckled.

“No…you gotta tell me why you’re looking.” She reached up and tapped his nose. He watched her with a lustful gaze as he brought his lips back to her neck.

“You make me happy.” He mumbled into her skin. She giggled flinching away at the ticklish sensation. He grinned and pulled her back in. “And I hope I make you happy too.” His tone was now serious and he regarded her with desperate eyes.

“You do.” Her words were delicate, almost airy. She leaned up and pecked his lips. “Let’s get up. I want to make you breakfast.”

He sat at her small bar as she flipped pancakes and beat eggs. The domesticity of it all making him grow both warm and nauseous. She had no idea the thoughts he’d been having two nights before or about his purchases.

If she'd known, would she have still let him come over? The thought came to mind to finally take a pill. He could slip one in his mouth without her noticing. Maybe it would calm him enough to survive breakfast and not screw up the lovely evening they’d just had.

He reached in his pocket under the countertop but paused, Wizard’s warning echoing in his head. He didn’t know what the shit was and if it had an adverse effect, it could be even worse than he imagined. He placed his palms back on the countertop and leaned forward peering over at her as she worked. She flashed him a smile, and his whole body seemed to relax. His brows un-furrowed and his lips parted. Breathe. He allowed himself to just breathe, and take in the simplicity of it all. He was with her. Wasn’t that good enough?

It was.

“Can you teach me?”

“What? How to make pancakes?”

He shrugged and hopped out of the seat, moving around to the kitchen.

“Just how to cook in general. What are you doing with the eggs?” he stood behind her and watched her pour a cup full of beat yolk into a pan with searing butter.

He’d lived most of his life off of fast food and instant meals as both of his parents worked full-time jobs that kept them away from home at odd hours. Unfortunately, he’d carried this type of diet into his adulthood. Seeing someone cook from scratch like this was entrancing.

“I’m about to scramble them.” She leaned past him, popped open her fridge, and grabbed a bag of shredded cheese. “You beat them, so they have a more liquid consistency, and add a little water or milk, that way they get fluffier and not so rubbery as they cook.” She rubbed his side affectionately as he moved beside her.

“Can I help?”

“Sure. Here. Sprinkle in some cheese and stir it around.” She handed him a fork, and he got to work.

As the eggs came along, she pulled the bacon out of the oven. The savory aroma made his mouth water as he fought to concentrate on scrambling the eggs. She began plating the pancakes and bacon and sat out the syrup and a jar of honey. Peering over his shoulder, she rubbed his lower back and planted a smooch on the side of his neck. He grinned bashfully as he laid down the fork.

“They look good. I think they’re done.”

He turned the stove off and moved aside so she could plate the eggs. She placed his plate in front of him as he made his way back around the bar.

“What’s the honey for?” he asked as he settled.

“I use honey sometimes instead of syrup.” She shrugged, pushing the syrup container towards him and popped open the jar of honey.

“What? No honey for me?” He teased.

She laughed a little. “I assumed you wouldn’t want any, but of course you can try some.”

“Is honey on pancakes like a southern thing?” He poked, watching humorously as her eyes narrowed at him.

“No. It’s a me thing.”

“Well, I wanna try.” He plucked the jar from across the bar, grinning.

Anything that she enjoyed was worth exploring.


End file.
